Shadow and Light
by ClassicCrime
Summary: Rebekah had always believed that she would live out her days at Kinloch Hold, just a simple mage with the gift of ice and lightning magic. She never imagined that she would one day lead the Inquisition. She certainly never expected to find love amidst the chaos. Follows Inquisitior Rebekah through the events of DA:I, CullenXInquisitior, slow burn.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hello everyone and welcome to the first chapter of this story! _Shadow and Light_ will follow the events of Dragon Age: Inquisition, possibly going as far as the Trespasser DLC, so their may be spoilers ahead for those of you who have not played that far. Sometimes the story will directly parallel with events from the game, including some exact dialogue, but this will not always be the case. Rebekah and her tale have been in the making for a very long time and I am very excited to begin sharing her with you.**

 **I have to thank my beta brightspot149 for signing onto this journey with me and making sure that I don't put out anything riddled with grammatical errors.**

* * *

 **Prologue**

In her first moments of awareness, all Rebekah could sense was a dull, aching pain. The muscles of her back and every joint of her spine screamed in agony, her knees pulsing in a slow rhythm, her legs so thoroughly asleep that she could no longer feel them beneath her.

 _What's happened to me?_

She began to sway back and forth as consciousness returned, wincing as her muscles protested the movement after being held in the same position for so long. She blinked her eyes slowly, the dim light making it difficult to see her surroundings. She could see the manacles locked around her wrists, could feel the cold bite of the metal against the skin of her right wrist, the skin of the left betrayed nothing having lost any capabilities of feeling long ago.

She could feel the biting cold of the stones beneath her even through her thick mage robes and the air bit in her lungs as she inhaled. Beneath all of the sensory information swarming her at that one moment, was a stinging sensation on the skin of her left palm. At first, she had barely noticed it, but as she regained awareness, the light tingling had developed into a thousand pinpricks, like little insect bites.

Rebekah winced in pain, her brows furrowing, and suddenly the skin of her palm erupted in a visual cacophony of green light. A gasp of surprise escaped her lips, the stinging pain subsiding to a pulsing thrum that was equal parts painful and pleasant.

Suddenly, a door slammed open, and instinctively, Rebekah closed her hands into fists and straightened her back.

Two silhouettes were framed in the doorway. Rebekah couldn't make out much, besides the longsword swaying from the hip of the person to her right. As they passed into the ring of ground surrounded by the torchlight, Rebekah could finally make out the features of two women. It was also at that moment that she realized she had been circled by four guards, swords pointing straight at her.

Metal sang as the guards placed their swords back in their scabbards and the two women came closer, the one with the longsword circling behind her.

"Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now?" The woman's voice was harsh, with a slight Nevarran accent. Her breath was hot on Rebekah's ear and she twisted her head away to escape the sensation.

Rebekah furrowed her brows in confusion, looking at the hooded woman in front of her for some sign of what had happened, some clue as to why she was shackled in this dungeon like a common criminal. How had she gotten here? Where was here?

"I don't underst…." Rebekeah began, but was cut off by the woman behind her as she paced.

"The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead," the woman said, matter-of-factly, her tone cold. She came back into view, her steps slow and measured, her longsword swinging back and forth as she walked. "Except for you."

"Destroyed?" Rebekah's mind was racing, her heart sinking. She had joined her fellow Enchanters and journeyed to the Conclave, but she had no concept of how long she had been in the dungeon since then.

They had arrived only a day before the official talks were to begin and Rebekah had excused herself to explore the fortress that had once held the sacred ashes of Andraste. The last thing she could remember was walking up an impressive staircase, a statue of Andraste before her.

As she raked her brain for memories of the Conclave, she began to remember something. A dream that she must have been having before waking up in the dungeon.

Her confusion was made plain in the tone of her voice. "That can't be right."

Before Rebekah could react, the woman reached forward, grasping Rebekah by the wrist and holding up the hand that had emitted that glowing green light only moments before.

And just as before, a sudden stinging sensation began to grow as a surge of green light began to emanate from her palm.

"Explain this," the woman growled, seeming to scowl at the unnatural glow before throwing the offensive appendage back at the prisoner.

"I can't," Rebekah replied after a moment, her hand tightening into a fist.

It had to be magic, that much Rebekah thought obvious, but it was nothing like her natural abilities. Rebekah had entered the Circle when she was ten and had over a decade of training in the magical arts. She knew the feel of her own magic, its capabilities, strengths and weaknesses. Whatever power was held in her palm was not natural and not hers.

"What do you mean you can't?" The woman shouted at her accusatorially, and both women began to pace in circles around Rebekah.

Rebekah's heart was crashing in her chest, her fear began to grow stronger. As with other times of strong emotion, she began to hear the whispers of the demons as they attempted to reach her through the veil and she closed her eyes to shut them out.

"I don't know what that is. Or how it got there," Rebekah replied, her tone pleading with these mystery women to believe her.

"You're lying!" Her interrogator growled, snapping forward and grasping Rebekah by her shoulders.

Rebekah could see the anger and rage in this woman's steel gray eyes, and she reflexively flinched away from the woman's touch.

It was then that the hooded woman stepped forward, touching the other woman on the shoulder and pushing her back. "We need her, Cassandra." The hooded woman said, turning briefly to look back at Rebekah and she would have sworn that she saw pity in the woman's eyes.

"Please, someone tell me what's going on," Rebekah tried to keep her voice neutral, but she couldn't stop the undertone of fear from showing in the trembling of her voice. "How was the Conclave destroyed? All of those people can't just be gone."

"You don't remember what happened?" The hooded woman asked as she came forward. Rebekah could see a hint of short red hair peeking from beneath the gray hood of the woman's cape.

"Obviously not!" Rebekah bit back, recoiling at her own harsh tone. "The last thing I remember is walking up the stairs of the Temple."

The other woman, Cassandra, came from behind Rebekah again and herded the hooded woman to the door. "Go to the forward camp, Leliana." A thrill of shock went through Rebekah as the name left the woman's lips.

 _Leliana, the Leliana?_

They both looked back at Rebekah, eyes full of accusation. "I will take her to the rift," Cassandra said, and their eyes met. With the briefest of nods, Leliana left the room, not even sparing the prisoner a second glance.

"Can someone please tell me what happened?" The fear was quickly giving way to anger as confusion over her situation mounted.

Cassandra quickly walked forward, grasping the shackles in her hands and unlocked the manacles. As the iron clattered to the floor, Rebekah instinctively began to rub her wrists as she stood.

"It will be easier to show you."

* * *

 **Thank you all so much for taking the time to check out this story! Constructive criticism and feedback are always welcome, so please feel free to review if you like. I hope to get a chapter out at least once a week, but I make no promises. If you liked what you read, make sure you add this story to your alert list!**

 **Have a great weekend!**


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: A big t** **hank you to everyone who took the time to check out this story! And thank you to my beta, brightspot149 for getting this chapter back to me so quickly. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

The Breach. That was what Seeker Cassandra had called the green tear through the sky. It loomed above them all as Rebekah and Cassandra made their trek up the mountain to the forward camp.

Rebekah walked the paths as if in a daze, unable to process what had occurred.

Dead. They're all dead. Her thoughts continued on a loop as her eyes scanned the desolate wasteland. She could not recognize where she was when compared to the path she had walked only days before.

Soldiers were everywhere. Refugees gazed towards her with hostility as she passed.

"They have decided your guilt," Cassandra had said to her as they walked away from the Chantry, "they need it."

 _Could it truly have been me?_ Rebekah pondered.

Even though her very soul rejected the thought, Rebekah could not refute it. She could not recall any memories after she had walked up the steps of the Temple of Sacred Ashes. That was a great deal of time unaccounted for. If she could not remember, then perhaps she had blocked it out. But still a "why" remained.

Why would an unknown Enchanter from a Circle comprised of mostly Aequitarians attend the Conclave only to destroy it? How could any one person doom all in attendance to this fate? And how would any mage accomplish such a feat?

Rebekah had no answers to these questions. The only response was the glaring green light in her hand that pulsed in unison with the tear in the sky. Even a child could see that the mark and the Breach came from the same magic, but how had the mark come to be placed upon Rebekah?

"I'll do whatever I can to help, Seeker," had been Rebekah's only response to these accusations. With those words, they began their journey up the mountain to the center of the Breach.

"How is it that you came to be here?" Cassandra inquired as they walked through the gates.

"I came as an emissary for the Kinloch Hold circle, along with others," Rebekah replied, her eyes darting between Seeker Cassandra and the Breach behind her.

"So, you're Ferelden then?" Cassandra continued.

"Yes. Originally from Denerim, but I've lived at the Circle tower for a majority of my life," Rebekah said as they rounded a bend in the path. Ahead of them loomed a bridge, the lake beneath it frozen solid.

Cassandra merely nodded at the response as the two began crossing the bridge.

Neither woman had much time to react as streak of green light barreled into the stone bridge. The stones began to wobble and break apart, a great crack resounded as the bridge collapsed. Cassandra and Rebekah tumbled to the frozen lake below.

Rebekah rolled atop the rubble, her already aching knees colliding with stone. She winced as she came to a stop on the lake, cradling an elbow.

"What was that?" She shouted to Cassandra, but no response came. Rebekah rose to her feet, noting that Cassandra did the same beside her.

Rebekah stood in shock as a glowing orb streaked through the sky, slamming into the ledge in front of them before blasting into the frozen surface of the lake. A dark mass emerged from the crater, growing in height and stretching its arms as if waking from a deep slumber.

 _Shade_. Rebekah's instincts screamed.

"Stay behind me!" Cassandra roared, her longsword singing as it was unsheathed.

Cassandra surged forward to engage the shade, leaving Rebekah behind her. Cassandra didn't seem to notice that a second spot in the lake had begun to glow.

Rebekah readied herself, feeling that ever-present hum of magic growing as she called to it.

As the shade burst from the ice, Rebekah threw her arms forward envisioning the bolt of lightning streaking across the empty space to strike down her foe.

She felt her magic surge within her, could see the angry purple sparks dancing between her fingers as her magic unleashed itself. The lightning struck home, burrowing into the shade's chest, its entire body streaking with purple light.

Rebekah primed for another strike, her actions slowed without the use of a staff as her focus point. She called for a winter wind, cold enough to freeze a man solid.

The wind before her turned white, the temperature plummeting as the spell flew towards the demon. She heard the crackling as the wind solidified the shade's limbs, its body locking up.

With one final spell, Rebekah called forth a ball of pure energy and sent it hurtling towards the shade. As the ball of blue light collided with the demon, it began to splinter, cracks appearing from the point of impact and tracing up before the demon completely shattered and disintegrated.

Cassandra walked back towards her, completely composed despite the battle. She hardly nodded at Rebekah as she began walking up the embankment and back onto the path.

* * *

" _At least I know I can help."_ Rebekah thought gratefully to herself as she peered at her left palm, the mark hidden beneath her skin.

Two new companions had joined her and Cassandra as they had continued to the forward camp. Varric, a rugged dwarf with a crossbow that he had named Bianca, and Solas, an elven mage who seemed to have some knowledge about the magic behind the Breach and the rifts that it had created.

Rebekah had not thought that it could get any worse, until she had seen the first rift. While the demons that had attacked her and Cassandra on the lake had shot directly from the Breach, rifts were mini-tears in the fade that spewed demons. According to Solas, these rifts had been reported as far East as Redcliff, and more sightings were reported every day.

It was from Solas that Rebekah had learned that the explosion that destroyed the Conclave occurred three days prior, and she had been unconscious for a majority of that time.

"The mark took its toll," Solas explained to her as they walked. "For a time, we were unsure whether you would survive. I studied the mark as you slept and did my best to keep you alive, along with another mage."

"Thank you," Rebekah responded, her gaze finally lifting from her hand to meet Solas' grey eyes. "For ensuring that it didn't take my life."

"You are welcome," He replied pleasantly, a light smile gracing his lips as they continued.

The further their journey took them, the more carnage graced their path.

The group dispatched a number of demons and Rebekah became slightly more familiar with the usage of the mark. However, she did not become accustomed to the dead men and women who were strewn in the snow.

"Are you alright?" Varric had asked after the third rift, noticing Rebekah's complexion growing increasingly pale. She felt feverish and jittery, her hands shaking at her sides.

She struggled to swallow past the lump in her throat and gave Varric a noncommittal nod. "Fine," she replied, her voice hollow.

It had been a long time since Rebekah had seen a dead body. While many mages had been subject to great violence since the circles had rebelled, the Kinloch Hold circle had remained relatively peaceful. Rebekah had not seen such bloodshed since Uldred's uprising and she actively kept thoughts of those days from her mind, but they came flooding back to her as they made their way up the mountain.

It felt like she had been walking for days, her legs protesting her every movement, her already aching joints burning with the strain. Cassandra and Solas kept stride with each other up ahead, but Varric stayed at her side.

"First time?" He asked after a brief silence.

"What?" Rebekah replied, glancing briefly at him as they traversed a particularly steep incline.

"This your first time in a fight?" He asked again.

Rebekah turned her gaze on him fully prepared to lie, but upon seeing the sympathetic look on the dwarf's face she replied, "That obvious?"

"Nah. Not really," Varric flashed her a lop-sided grin.

"Technically it's not," she explained breathlessly as the path leveled out. "There was an uprising at my circle when I was a girl. Many people died. But, that doesn't mean that I ever got used to it."

"I don't think anyone ever 'get's used to it.' The one's who do aren't normal," he replied.

The distant sounds of screaming floated down to them and Rebekah saw Cassandra's posture grow more rigid. "Another rift! Get ready!" She shouted down to them. With a look back towards Varric, Rebekah began to pick up the pace.

* * *

" _How tall is this bloody mountain?"_ Rebekah thought to herself with a grimace as her gaze swept up at another steep incline. They had made a brief stop at the forward camp where they had been berated by some pompous Chancellor and now continued their trek towards the breach.

Leliana had been at the forward camp and Rebekah was relieved to discover that it was _the_ Leliana. Rebekah was unsure whether Leliana would remember her or not, she had been so young when the Hero of Fereldan and her party had come to the circle. She had noticed Leliana's gaze resting on her as the group had talked and Rebekah had wanted to say something, but knew that it was not the time. It was a relief, however, to know one of the faces among the mass of people who surrounded her.

While at the forward camp, Solas had managed to find her a staff among the discarded weapons and Rebekah gripped it tightly in her hands now, the nicks and grooves feeling foreign in her hands.

It wasn't long before the distant sounds of screaming drew closer and Rebekah could see the angry green rift looming further ahead, her mark flaring to life.

"Maker, another one?" Varric sighed.

They jumped into the fray, assisting the soldiers as they combated the shades. Magic flew from Rebekah's staff and Rebekah began to feel the strain on her magic as she started to reach her limit.

No more demons surrounded them, and Rebekah moved to place the staff into the holster on her back.

Suddenly claws ripped up from the ground beneath her and a terror demon shot out of the ground, toppling her onto her back. Rebekah barely had time to scream as the great maw of the demon opened.

Just as quickly as the demon had appeared before her, suddenly a long sword appeared right in the center of the demons mouth. The tip of the sword dripped with black ichor, mere inches from Rebekah's nose.

The demon began to disintegrate, revealing an imposing man in full armor. He strode towards her, his hand outstretched. She slipped her hand in his, the leather sticking to the sweat on her skin.

"Quickly, we must close it!" Solas called, and Rebekah's attention drew to the rift as the green light undulated.

"Excuse me," Rebekah said to the man before slipping past him, her hand glowing green as she raised it towards the rift. As before, pure green energy erupted from the mark towards the center of the rift and Rebekah felt a great pulling sensation that travelled from her palm and up her arm, the pressure mounting before popping. The rift disappeared.

"Oh," she heard the man murmur behind her. "You're her then, the prisoner?" Rebekah nodded in confirmation without turning around to meet his gaze. "Well, I hope they're right about you. We've lost a lot of people getting you here."

 _Why does that voice sound so familiar?_ Rebekah thought to herself as she turned to face him.

"That makes two of us," she replied as Solas and Varric joined them.

"The way ahead should be clear. Leliana will meet you there," he explained to Cassandra, not meeting Rebekah's eyes again.

"Then we should move quickly," Cassandra said as she faced the group. "Give us time, Commander."

The Commander's expression turned grim as his soldiers filed past him to make the journey back down the mountain. "Maker watch over you. For all our sakes." His eyes met Rebekah's then, and again she was struck with the feeling of recognition, but couldn't quite place it.

"Let's keep moving," Cassandra sheathed her long sword once again and motioned the group towards a ledge. Below it, burning husks still crouched on the ground, mouths open in silent screams.

Rebekah could feel her stomach churning.

"If you're going to be sick, now might be the best time," Varric told Rebekah, his tone laced with that same sympathy he had shown her earlier.

"I'll be fine," Rebekah replied, taking a long swallow.

"First tip, don't breathe through your nose," he said to her before taking a step forward.

Rebekah immediately did as suggested.

The archway that had once been the entrance to the Temple of Sacred Ashes loomed before them, and as they walked they passed more bodies.

Some lay prostrate on the ground, mouths open with teeth scorched by the fire. Rebekah's right hand drifted to the cloth tied around her left wrist. She knew how their skin would feel against her hands, knew it because she touched something similar every day.

"Maker," she whispered to herself as they rounded the corner.

The Breach loomed before them: a massive rippling scar heaving above. It looked as if emerald crystals had formed at the center, shifting and growing as green light streaked across the clouds.

"The Breach is a long way up," Varric commented as he surveyed their surroundings.

"Will I even be able to reach it?" Rebekah mused, looking towards Solas.

He didn't get a chance to reply.

"You're here. Thank the Maker," Leliana's voice trilled behind them, as she strode towards their group.

"Leliana, have your men take up positions around the Temple." Cassandra replied without preamble. Leliana merely nodded before returning to the soldiers she had brought with her. "This is your chance to end this, are you ready?" Cassandra asked, coming back to stand in front of Rebekah.

"I'll try, but I don't know if I can reach it, much less close it." Rebekah replied, anxiety and adrenaline tying her stomach into knots and making breathing a bit harder.

"No," Solas said, shaking his head. "This rift is the first and it's the key. Seal it and perhaps we'll seal the Breach."

"Wait, just a moment," Rebekah began, her eyes widening, her tone incredulous. "That's not the Breach?" She pointed her hand towards the shifting green crystals.

Solas's eyes narrowed slightly. "No. This is the first rift that spawned from the Breach. That," he began, gesturing at the swirling vortex of clouds overhead, "is the Breach."

"Oh," Rebekah said dumbly, and she could feel herself deflating.

Cassandra's eyes narrowed as well. "Let's find a way down. Be careful."

"It's ok, kid," Varric said as he passed by Rebekah to follow Cassandra. "It was confusing for me at first too."

Rebekah closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her mouth. A million doubts swirled through her in that moment, along with the thought that this could be the end. She steeled herself as the fear washed over her, and the creeping voices of the demons became louder.

"Maker guide me," she whispered to herself and took another deep inhale. As she exhaled, she raised her eyes first to the rift, then to the Breach high above her. With one last prayer, Rebekah resolutely followed her companions down into the crater to close the rift.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

 _"Someone help me!"_

Rebekah was roused from her sleep by the memory, the voice of that woman calling to her in the rift. She still couldn't remember the events that had transpired, but it was clear to her that she had interrupted some nefarious plan that had ultimately led to the destruction of the Conclave.

The conversation had resounded through the crater under the rift as they had sought to close it. The Seeker had looked shocked to hear echoes of the past reverberating off of the stone, but Solas had seemed unsurprised.

Cassandra had known that voice, claimed that it had been Divine Justinia, calling out for help. When Rebekah's embodied voice had responded, Cassandra had whirled on her. She had assumed that this meant Rebekah had some knowledge of what had happened, but whatever memories had lingered in the rift were gone from Rebekah's mind. There was still a gap between when she had walked up the steps of the Temple and when she had woken in the dungeon.

Solas had explained to Rebekah that it was possible that she would never remember, that perhaps the instigator of these events had stolen them from her somehow.

Rebekah rose from the bed, throwing her legs over the side and resting her bare feet on the rug that covered the cold stone floor of her hut. She ran a hand through her light brown hair with a great sigh.

It had been days since she had repaired the first rift and her body and magic still ached from the strain it had put on her. The effort to close the rift so soon after battle had left her magic completely drained, her body not far behind.

She had collapsed, right there in the crater beneath the Breach. Her companions had feared the worst, but Rebekah had survived.

For days she had laid in that bed, going in and out of consciousness, barely managing to eat. Sometimes she would awake and find someone sitting on a stool next to her bed, more often than not it was Solas.

The door creaked open softly and Rebekah tilted her head in order to see her visitor. It was a thin elven woman with short brown hair carrying a wooden crate. The woman did not look up at first, smiling to herself. When she did look up and noticed Rebekah awake and staring at her, her expression immediately changed.

"Oh," she gasped, the wooden crate tumbling from her arms and clattering onto the floor. "I didn't know you were awake, I swear."

"It's alright," Rebekah replied, her tone soft and her voice raspy from lack of use.

The young woman dropped to her knees in a deep bow and Rebekah shot up from the bed in surprise. She stumbled backward slightly in the process, knocking into the table beside the bed.

"I beg your forgiveness, and your blessing. I am but a humble servant," the girl intoned, her voice laced with something that Rebekah could only identify as fear.

 _"Maker's breath! What is going on here?"_ Rebekah thought, her brows knitting with confusion. "Please, there's no need..."

"They say you saved us, my lady. The Breach stopped growing, just like the mark on your hand," the elf explained. "It's all anyone has talked about for the last three days."

Rebekah had heard as much from Solas one night, when she had awoken to find him perched next to her, his nose stuffed in a book. However, that foreknowledge did not prepare her for how the people would react to her presence.

"I'm certain Lady Cassandra will want to know you've awakened," the elf cried out to herself, standing abruptly and backing towards the door. "She said 'at once.'"

"Can you tell me where she is?" Rebekah asked, feeling dismayed by how the elven woman was acting. _Is everyone going to behave this way around me? She acts as if I'll hurt her._

"In the Chantry," she replied, her hand reaching behind her for the door handle. "'At once,' she said." With that, the woman rushed back outside, slamming the door behind her.

Rebekah shook her head, a weight settling over her that made it harder to breathe. She didn't want to leave that the didn't want to see those people who now called her the "Herald of Andraste."

Solas had told her about it briefly, praising her for the good work she had done with the rift. Where she had once been a prisoner, believed to have destroyed the Conclave, she was now a savior who had stopped the spread of the Breach.

She was still pacing and wringing her hands when a knock came to her door.

"Come in!" She called, and the door creaked open to reveal Leliana.

"Forgive me, I can come back later if you like," Leliana began, gesturing to Rebekah. It was only then that Rebekah realized she was pacing around in her nightclothes.

"My apologies, I didn't quite notice." Rebekah replied with a sigh, gesturing at the thin cotton gown before plopping back down on the edge of the bed. "How did I even get in this?"

"One of the healers, I suppose," Leliana replied, taking a seat on the stool across the room. "I was sent by Cassandra to retrieve you. Your presence has been requested at the Chantry."

"So I heard," Rebekah said, without explanation.

"Here," Leliana turned behind her to grab a bundle of clothing that had been resting on the desk. "I had Seggrit prepare some new clothes for you." She stood from the stool and placed the bundle beside Rebekah. The Cousland kerchief that Rebekah normally had tied to cover the burns on her wrist rested on the top of the pile.

"I hadn't even realized it was gone," Rebekah said, more to herself than Leliana, as her fingers traced the Cousland heraldry.

"It must be very important to you, to have kept it for so long," Leliana replied.

Rebekah rose her head slowly to find Leliana giving her a knowing look. "I wondered if you would even remember me, had I mentioned it."

Leliana nodded, smiling slightly. "Maybe not at first glance, but when they brought you into the dungeons they had me check for anything that would identify who you were. At first I was confused when I found it tied around your wrist. 'Why would she have this? How is she tied to the Couslands?' And then a memory began to take shape. A memory of a badly injured young girl at the Circle and the Hero of Ferelden applying a poultice to her kerchief to tie around the girl's wrist."

"It seems like such a long time ago," Rebekah said, fingering the frayed edges of the kerchief.

"It does," Leliana agreed. Then, after a brief moment of silence, "I never asked your name then."

"Rebekah," she replied, meeting Leliana's kind blue eyes.

Leliana inclined her head in greeting. "Well, we best not keep Cassandra waiting. I will wait outside while you dress. We can walk to the Chantry together." With one last small smile, Leliana walked back outside into the light snow fall.

* * *

The walk to the Chantry had been every bit as terrifying as Rebekah had expected. Where hostility had been before, now there was complete adoration. People bowed and curtsied as she passed, her new title only a whisper. Herald of Andraste.

Rebekah had quickened her pace in order to escape those whispers and without a word, Leliana mirrored her.

"Does it unsettle you?" Leliana asked as the Chantry doors closed behind them.

"It feels so..." Rebekah trailed off, the words to explain how she felt eluding her.

"Do you not believe?" Leliana continued, coming to a halt before passing into the room where they would meet with Cassandra.

"Believe?" Rebekah inquired.

"That you have been sent by the Maker. That the mark on your hand was given to you by Him as a means to save us," Leliana explained.

The thought was so alien to Rebekah, it almost seemed comical. Her, a mage, sent by the Maker to save the world? Not a chance.

"It feels false to claim that I believe that," Rebekah replied, shaking her head. "Then again, who am I to claim that I know the Maker's plans?"

Leliana nodded, a small smile gracing her lips, "True enough." With that, Leliana's gaze returned to the closed wooden door and she took the remaining steps towards it.

Before she could move to open the door, it swung inward to reveal Cassandra glowering at the person retreating from the room. Chancellor Roderick looked just as flustered and indignant as he had when Rebekah had first encountered him. Solas had told her that the Chancellor had continually called for her transfer to Val Royeaux, despite her ability to close the rifts.

His face was fixed in a scowl that only grew deeper when he realized who was standing outside of the room. Without a word, or a second glance, he walked past Leliana and Rebekah. His rage was almost palpable.

"Good, you're here," Cassandra said, motioning for the pair to come into the room.

"You wanted to see me, Seeker Cassandra?" Rebekah asked, as she entered the room. The door squeaked shut behind her and she watched as Leliana rounded the table to stand beside Cassandra.

"Yes," Cassandra began, her hand resting on a thick book upon the table. "Tell me, are you familiar with the Inquisition of old?"

Rebekah hesitated briefly before responding.

"Yes," she replied, her brows furrowing in confusion. What a strange thing to ask. "The group was created following the Blight and eventually split into the Seekers of Truth and the Templars, but that was ages ago."

Cassandra nodded,"The Conclave was Divine Justinia's, her first hope in stemming the violence between the Mages and Templars and bringing order back to Thedas. However, it was not her only plan."

Rebekah slowly nodded, not quite sure what direction this conversation was going.

"This," Cassandra began, pointing her finger down towards the book on the table, "This was the Divine's directive to us, that we should form the Inquisition of old, should the Conclave not succeed. Just as before, the world has been thrown into chaos, and we must restore order. In order to do that, we will need your help."

Rebekah's eyes widened with shock. "Me?" She squeaked, her eyes flicking from face to face to see if this was some joke.

"Of course. You have the mark, after all," Leliana answered.

"The Breach must be closed, and we must find the person who did this and bring them to justice. We cannot achieve this without your help," Cassandra added with conviction.

"What about the Chantry?" Rebekah replied, the comprehension of what they were asking of her slowly forming. "Why aren't they... handling, this?"

"The Chantry has decided on your guilt. They continue to demand that we send you to Val Royeaux. They are completely lost without the Divine," Cassandra continued, coming around the table to stand beside Rebekah.

"They still think I'm guilty?" Rebekah said with a tone of disbelief. "Who would willingly do this to themselves?"

"I don't think you would, nor do I think you are the person behind this," Leliana replied from the far side of the room.

"Neither of us believe you are guilty," Cassandra added. "You are the only one who we know can close the rifts and the only hope we have of closing the Breach. Will you stand with us?"

Rebekah's head was spinning. She hadn't been outside of the Tower for over a decade. The journey to the Conclave was the first time that she had stepped foot in the outside world since she was a girl. She didn't have experience with people outside of those at Kinloch Hold, and had no experience with actual conflict. Now, she was being asked to take a role within this war, to step outside of her life as a meek follower of Chantry doctrine and rules and become an integral part of this revolution.

 _When has inexperience ever stopped you?_ The thought came unbidden, from a part of herself that she had forgotten long ago. _You can't leave these people. They need your help. Without you, the Breach could swallow the world._

And that was what scared Rebekah the most, what set her heart racing. If she refused, if she gave into her fears, she would be condemning the world.

"Of course," Rebekah began, her voice quiet. _"Now is not the time to be that timid Circle mage,"_ Rebekah berated herself. She cleared her throat, straightening and pushing her shoulders back. "Yes. I will stand with you and help in whatever way I can." The confidence in her voice was shaky, but it was a start.

"Good," Cassandra said with a small smile of her own, extending her hand to Rebekah.

Rebekah followed suit, grasping Cassandra's gloved hand in her own. Upon feeling Cassandra's tight grip, Rebekah flexed her fingers tighter. After one last squeeze, Cassandra released, her hand dropping to the pommel of her sword.

"We have long road ahead of us, Herald. I hope we are all ready," Cassandra continued, and Rebekah could already see her mind at work, assessing how best to proceed. "Leliana, have Josephine prepare the missives and send the ravens as soon as they are done. I would like everyone to meet back here this afternoon for a formal meeting."

With a brief nod, Leliana walked towards the door, flashing Rebekah a brief smile before exiting the room.

"Should I be back as well, for the meeting?" Rebekah asked, not quite sure what position she would hold within this order.

"Yes, of course. You have the mark. As such, you will be needed out in the field to repair any rifts that have opened. We'll need to discuss how best to proceed and where to send you first," Cassandra replied.

"I see," Rebekah could already feel her throat growing dry and instantly regretted agreeing to join. "Then I shall see you this afternoon."

Rebekah didn't wait to hear Cassandra's reply. She rushed from the room and out of the Chantry completely.

* * *

Rebekah did not want to return for the meeting later that afternoon. A majority of her day had been spent pacing in her hut, meditating in an attempt to calm her already frayed nerves, and staring out of the lone window that faced the wooden perimeter fence. The anxiety had burrowed into her and now gripped inside of her like closed fist.

Standing outside of the meeting room in the Chantry, Rebekah stood wringing her hands and listening to the muffled voices of those already inside. She could already tell by the differing tones that more than just Cassandra and Leliana waited inside.

"Deep breath, Rebekah. Take one last deep breath and then it's time to open that door!" Rebekah commanded herself. She took one deep inhale in through her nose and let it out slowly through her mouth. Then, she stretched out her hand, wrapped it around the brass doorknob, turned it, and opened the door.

The grip within her stomach tightened as she looked at the group of four assembled behind that pock-marked table. All conversation halted as she slipped into the room, gazes resting on her. What she felt as she walked into that room reminded her of the butterflies she would get as a girl when she was summoned to meet with the enchanters, as if she were just a trainee waiting to be scolded by her elders. She took another deep breath in and attempted to smile as she came to a stop opposite them.

"Ah, you must be the Herald of Andraste," the well-dressed woman said with a smile. Her heavy Antivan accent and her darker skin tone distinguished her from the others in the room.

Rebekah only nodded in response.

"I am Josephine Montilyet. A pleasure." Josephine inclined her head in greeting and Rebekah knew that sometime after this meeting she would have to ask for the woman's name again.

"You've met Commander Cullen, Leader of the Inquisition's forces," Cassandra said, continuing introductions.

"It was only for a moment on the field. I'm pleased you survived," Commander Cullen continued with a soft smile.

All of the thoughts swirling in Rebekah's mind suddenly came to a halt.

The voice of the unnamed man had seemed so familiar to her when she had encountered him in the valley, but she had never quite discovered why. Now, upon hearing the man's name, recognition clanged through her like a bell.

Cullen.

 _"No, it can't be,"_ Rebekah thought to herself, her brows furrowing. At the continued silence, the small smile that had graced Cullen's features began to retract.

"I believe you two may already know each other," Leliana broke the long silence with her words. Rebekah suddenly became aware that she had been staring fixedly at Cullen's face for far too long, and she could see him shuffling uncomfortably.

"Oh?" He asked her, confusion lacing his tone. He looked from Leliana, back to Rebekah, and Rebekah could tell that he didn't feel the same sense of familiarity she had.

"Yes, I had almost forgotten," Cassandra cut in. "You were both at Kinloch Hold."

Cullen's eyes widened slightly at the mention of the Circle and Rebekah glanced away from him, wishing she could be anywhere else. She could feel his gaze on her as he searched her features for some sign of who she was.

"I apologize," Cullen began, his voice sounding as if his thoughts were in some far off place as he searched his memories for her. "I don't remember ever meeting you."

Rebekah didn't want to respond, didn't want to remember the young Templar that had called for the Circle's annulment even after Elena Cousland had saved them.

"No need to apologize," Rebekah replied, managing to keep her tone soft. "I was a young girl when you were a Templar there. I probably look very different than how you would remember."

Cullen. She could see it now, the young Templar that she had once known within the stalwart Commander who stood before her. He had the same sandy blonde hair, though he styled it differently now. He had the same kind hazel eyes. The scar on his upper lip was new, as was the confident way with which he held himself. Even with the bashful way he ran his hand over the hair at the base of his neck, she could feel that confidence ebbing from him.

"Ah, that would explain it," he said, still seemingly lost in thought.

The other women watched the exchange in silence, Cassandra looking a bit perturbed that their meeting had been derailed so quickly.

"Josephine is our ambassador and chief diplomat," Cassandra said, continuing her introduction of the people who formed the heart of the Inquisition. "And of course you know Sister Leliana."

"My position here involves a degree of…" Leliana began, before being swiftly cut off by Cassandra.

"She is our spymaster."

"Yes. Tactfully put, Cassandra," Leliana replied, lowering a playful glare at the Seeker.

Rebekah felt a bit cowed as their gazes came to rest on her again. She felt so young and inexperienced as she stood in their company. She had no titles to claim, no worldly experience, nothing to offer this Inquisition besides the mark on her hand.

"Those are some impressive titles," she said to them, clasping her hands tight behind her back to keep from fidgeting.

"We've been discussing what could be our best course of action for closing the Breach," Cassandra began, her eyes flicking to Leliana and Cullen in particular. "After gaining some insight from Solas, we have determined that we must find some way to put more power into your mark. As it stands, we don't have enough. "

"We need to cultivate the same level of magic that was required to open it," Leliana continued, locking eyes with Rebekah. "Which means we'll have to approach the rebel mages for help."

"I still disagree," Cullen spoke up, his hands resting on the pommel of his sword. "The Templars could serve just as well."

"How so?" Rebekah questioned, a little thrown off by Cullen's suggestion.

The glare he had been leveling at Leliana suddenly turned on her and Rebekah could feel herself shrinking from the gaze and for a moment wished that she hadn't spoken up at all.

"We need power, Commander. Enough magic poured into that mark…" Cassandra began before Cullen could reply.

"That amount of power could destroy us all," Cullen responded, his expression grim and his voice turning harsh. "Templars could suppress the breach, weaken it…"

"Pure speculation," Leliana replied, and Rebekah began to sense the argument that had surely been raging before she had stepped into the room.

"I was a Templar once, I know what they're capable of," Cullen growled at Leliana.

"Unfortunately, neither group will speak to us yet. The Chantry has denounced the Inquisition, and you specifically," Josephine explained, pointing her quill at Rebekah.

Rebekah recalled the conversation she'd had with Leliana and Cassandra earlier that morning and shook her head. "I still don't understand why they are so concerned with my guilt and less concerned about ensuring that the Breach is closed."

"I'm sure that you are aware of your new title," Josephine continued and Rebekah nodded, the expression on her face clearly showing how uncomfortable the moniker made her. "They have deemed it as blasphemy, and we have been named heretics for harboring you. This makes talks with either group out of the question."

Talk of what to do next continued for what felt like hours. Rebekah stood silently as Cassandra, Leliana, and Cullen bickered over whose support to seek with Josephine piping in to remind them that we still didn't have an avenue through which to speak to the mages or the Templars.

Rebekah continued to feel out of place, unsure of why she had been invited to these talks and what exactly she would be asked to do. Clearly, she was responsible for closing the rifts that had opened all over Thedas, and she would ultimately close the Breach, but that didn't make her necessary for council meetings. Surely that was what they were, the council of the Inquisition.

Then again, if they would all remain at Haven while she went off gallivanting through Thedas, it might be prudent for her to know why she was being sent where and what she should be doing once she got there.

In the presence of those great minds, Rebekah continued to feel like an inexperienced child. The more they discussed, the more she realized that she would be the ultimate decision-maker out in the field. They were in charge at Haven, but out in the world she would have to trust her own instincts to make choices and alliances that would benefit the Inquisition as a whole.

The realization of what she would truly be for them terrified her.

In the end, they came to a consensus that the decision between the mages or Templars would come later. First, they needed to gain support and Leliana had an idea of where they could start.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Rebekah groaned as she plopped onto a large boulder on the side of the road. She lifted her right foot, pulled the leather boot off, flipped it upside down, and began to shake it. She heard, more than saw, the small pebble as it tumbled out of her shoe and onto the dirt road.

"No wonder your feet hurt," Varric joked with a laugh, coming to stand beside her. He pulled Bianca from the holster across his back and propped it up on the boulder. "How'd you manage to get rocks in your shoes?"

Rebekah lowered a playful glare towards her companion as dropped her shoe unceremoniously onto the ground and began rotating her ankle, her fingers kneading the sore flesh of her foot.

Cassandra strolled up to them, retrieved Rebekah's boot from the ground and flipped it over to look at the sole. "There's a hole," she explained simply. "We'll need to get this repaired or purchase new ones when we get to the Crossroads."

"Between the journey to the Conclave and our current expedition, I'm not surprised," Solas piped up, coming to rest beside them, staff in hand.

They had been traveling for five days, forced to travel on foot because they lacked the horses for the journey. As they had left Haven Leliana had suggested that they find Scout Harding, who apparently had an idea of where they could acquire a supply of horses for the Inquisition moving forward.

Only Varric had openly complained about having to walk. They were tasked with travelling from Haven to a nondescript village called the Crossroads, in the Hinterlands, where scouts had reported sightings of Mother Giselle.

Mother Giselle would be their first contact in the Inquisition's efforts to ally with either the rebel mages or the Templars. She was more open-minded than many of her compatriots, having expressed a willingness to speak with the so-called Herald of Andraste. She had taken up residence at the Crossroads, about a day's ride south of Redcliff and was assisting the local healers with the wounded.

Tension between the people in the area was high. They had been had received reports at Haven of the fighting occurring not just between mages and Templars, but of both parties attacking the locals. Those who had been displaced, or sought to escape the fighting, had fled to the small village and Mother Giselle had arrived soon after the destruction of the Conclave.

Their group had heard some fighting as they had traveled the mountainous path from Haven to the Hinterlands, but had yet to join the fray. Rebekah hoped that they would make it all the way to Mother Giselle without incident.

Rebekah reached her hand out and Cassandra passed her the boot, which Rebekah pulled back on her foot. She stood and tested her weight on the shoe, pressing around to ensure that no rocks remained.

"Shall we continue?" Rebekah addressed the group. Cassandra didn't even respond, just giving a brief nod and continuing on the downward-sloping path, her sword swinging at her hip.

"Not much of a break," Varric replied, rolling his shoulders before picking Bianca back up and placing her back in the holster.

"We're almost there, I think," Rebekah responded, patting Varric on the back.

She also longed for a break. In the five days since they had left, they had spent a majority of the time walking, at Cassandra's insistence. She had argued that the more they walked each day, the earlier they would arrive at their destination. Rebekah couldn't fault her logic, but life in the tower had not prepared her for long distance traveling on foot.

By the end of day one, Rebekah had acquired large blisters on the back of both feet. By the end of day two, she had begun to feel a stinging pain around her shins. Her back, shoulders, and neck ached every moment. She could also tell that the sun had burned the pale skin of her face by how taut and dry it felt. Varric had teased her one night as they sat around the campfire, saying that she looked as red as a tomato. Rebekah vowed to search among the vendors for an aloe plant to help with the sunburn.

The journey from the tower to Haven had been less arduous. The mages and Templars had moved at a slow pace and had traveled with better gear and provisions. It had still been a miserable march, but had been leagues better than Rebekah's current experience.

Pebbles crunched beneath their shoes as they continued walking, the sun peaking overhead.

Rebekah walked quietly beside Varric and listened to the song that he hummed to himself. She nodded along to the tune, recognizing it as one of the songs that the bard frequently sang at the tavern back in Haven. She was so intently listening to Varric that she didn't notice the environment becoming completely silent, but she did notice Cassandra ahead of them coming to a complete stop. Her back stiffened, her right hand resting on the pommel of her sword.

That was when Rebekah smelled it, something burning.

Rebekah, Varric, and Solas continued down the path to the spot where Cassandra had stopped. She was listening intently, waiting for any hint of fighting on the road ahead, but they heard nothing.

"Stay alert. We don't know what is ahead of us," Cassandra spoke quietly, in an effort to keep her voice from carrying in the silence. The rest of them nodded, retrieving their weapons.

They stepped off of the path, walking into the short grass beside it in an attempt to make their approach quieter. They grouped tighter together in a diamond, Cassandra in front, Rebekah and Solas shoulder to shoulder in the middle, Varric bringing up the rear with Bianca in hand.

They continued down cautiously, scanning their surroundings. Rebekah tried to remain calm, tried to adopt the attitudes that she saw in her companions. She wanted to be as confident as Cassandra, as calm as Solas, and as stealthy as Varric. Instead, she was the one stepping on every possible twig that hid among the grass, the one breathing heavily as adrenaline raced through her body, the one with sweaty palms gripping so tightly around her staff that her knuckles had turned white.

After what felt like forever, they began to hear the sounds of fighting. Metal clanged on metal, the pop of wood burning, the cries of men and women as the battle raged.

"Inquisition soldiers!" Cassandra cried out suddenly, dropping all pretense of hiding as she pulled her sword out of its sheath. "They must be trying to protect the village. We must help! Stay on your guard and protect the Herald." Then Cassandra raced forward, pulling her shield from her back and charging for the nearest opponent.

Solas took up position behind a nearby stonewall that ran alongside the path, already preparing to launch his first spell. Varric stayed where he was, guarding Rebekah's back, bolts already flying from his crossbow.

Ahead of them, Rebekah could make out the Inquisition soldiers that Cassandra had spotted as well as what appeared to be a handful of mages and Templars. Two huts burned, mere husks of what they had once been, and fiery wooden planks littered the field of battle.

"Come on, kid," Varric shouted at her, jolting Rebekah out of her thoughts. "We need you too."

"Right," she muttered more to herself, staring down at her sweaty palms gripped around her staff before lifting her gaze to the enemy.

 _"I've never had to use magic against people,"_ she thought to herself as she rallied her magic. She could feel the familiar stirring within her as her magic rose to her call, sparks of lightning arced along her staff.

Rebekah watched, frozen, as the enemy rushed to engage Cassandra and the other Inquisition soldiers. Her magic pulsed within her, waiting for the spell that would release the energy that slowly began to build.

She watched as swords sliced into flesh, the metal shining with the wet red of blood. She watched as men and women writhed in pain, lightning like her own skipping along their skin. She watched as enemy and ally alike fell to the ground, wounded or dead. And still, despite what she was witnessing, she could not bring herself to move.

"Herald!" she heard Solas shout, the voice sounding far away. She looked to her right, watched as he fired another volley of spells towards a Templar rushing towards their position.

Rebekah felt her stomach tighten and she gripped her staff harder. Despite Solas's efforts, the Templar did not stop; he stomped determinedly through the grass towards her and Varric. Varric, behind her, sent bolt after bolt towards the man, but they all glanced harmlessly off of the massive tower shield.

Without a second thought, Rebekah summoned her magic. Blistering cold settled over her and she became coated in a blue glow. She turned, took a step forward and allowed her magic to wrap around her. She stepped through the fade and flew away from the battlefield and back to the path they had abandoned.

It wasn't until she looked around her that she realized what a stupid decision she had made. While she had been moderately hidden among the trees, now she stood out in the open with nothing, and no one, to guard her from an attack.

Swear words flew through her mind as she tried to decide what to do.

She couldn't run back to where she had been, she couldn't run forward toward the center of the fight, and she couldn't run back and leave her companions without her.

"As if you've been making much of a difference. You haven't even been able to fire off a single spell," she berated herself. The longer she stood in the open alone, the more her fear mounted.

"Do something," she whispered fervently to herself, tightening her hands around staff as she fought her fear. She took one harsh exhale through the mouth before charging forward and into the fray.

She could see that several Templars were still engaged in battle with the Inquisition soldiers. Cassandra was far ahead of her, her sword clashing with the Templars dagger and longsword.

Closer to her, Rebekah caught sight of an Inquisition soldier being bombarded with blows, his opponent hacking aggressively with his great sword.

"Him," Rebekah thought to herself, selecting her target.

She grasped at the magic that swirled just within reach; the magic shuttered out of her in a burst, several balls of lightning crackling as they surged towards the undefended back of the Templar.

The balls of purple energy undulated and dipped through the air before finding the target.

The man stiffened, his arms froze in place with the shock.

The pause gave the Inquisition soldier enough time to slide his sword up to the unguarded skin of the Templars neck, severing the artery.

The Templar went down in a heap.

Rebekah shook, a mix of pride and shame swirling in her heart.

She registered movement out of the corner of her eye and suddenly her fear returned as she saw the same Templar with the tower shield surge towards her. She braced herself, calling up a barrier, but knew that it wouldn't do much to stop him.

She heard a thunk and the Templar stopped in his tracks before tipping forward, a crossbow bolt jutted from his back.

"Where did you go running off to?" she heard Varric calling to her, and she lifted her eyes from the Templar to see him jogging over, Bianca still gripped in his hands. He had an angry red imprint across his face and his brow had been split, blood poured down the side of his face.

She heard the parting of air before she saw the arrow.

She saw the shaft sticking out of her shoulder before she felt the pain.

She saw Varric's eyes widen. "Get down," he shouted, and Rebekah immediately dropped to the ground, a second arrow whizzing over her.

"Find the archer!" she heard Cassandra shouting.

Varric rushed past the remaining distance between them and gripped Rebekah's injured shoulder to assess the damage. "You'll be fine," he kept muttering to himself. Rebekah hoped that he was right.

* * *

"Maker's breath, just pull it out already," Rebekah yelled at Solas, the pain from her shoulder making it difficult to keep quiet.

"As you wish," he replied. He brought his staff up, using the blade to saw the arrow in half. Black spots danced in Rebekah's vision and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out.

Once the arrow was split, Solas slowly pulled it out.

"Fuckin' Maker," Rebekah cursed, her Denerim accent coming out.

"You've got some mouth on you, Herald," Varric joked, hoping some levity would help improve the situation. Solas had already tended to his wounds.

"I've heard enough from you for one day, Varric," Cassandra retorted, rounding on him, her hands clenched into fists. "You were specifically instructed to guard her, how exactly did she end up out in the open, undefended?"

"Don't point the finger at me, Seeker. She ran off," Varric replied calmly. "Not that I blame her, she was scared. Did you ever think to ask her if she had experience in a fight before sending her out here?"

"Please, stop arguing," Rebekah said through clenched teeth as Solas gingerly pulled her arm through her sleeve, exposing the pale white skin and the puckered red skin around her wound. His hands began to glow a very faint blue, pulsing with healing magic. When the aura came into contact with her skin, the pain began to subside and she sighed in relief.

"Ugh," Cassandra huffed, throwing her hands in the air.

"He's right," Rebekah began, looking up apologetically at Cassandra. "I was scared so I ran. The fault is mine."

"Then I am as much as fault as you are," Cassandra sighed, her gray eyes meeting Rebekah's blue ones. "I should not have assumed that you were trained to fight. We'll need to arrange something, some training with the soldiers once we return to Haven. Until then, you'll train with me once a day. We will make sure that this doesn't happen again."

"I'm sorry," Rebekah said to them all, lowering her head in shame.

"Don't sweat it, kid," Varric replied with a soft smile, with a familiar sympathetic look.

Rebekah didn't tell them how frustrated she felt at her own helplessness. Out of the dozen enemies they had encountered, she had only fired one spell. She knew that the blast hadn't had enough energy to kill the man, so she was thankful that the Inquisition soldier had been there to take the killing blow.

 _"What am I going to do? How am I going to help anyone if I can't even protect myself?"_

"All done," Solas proclaimed, the blue glow fading away. The wound was almost completely healed. The only reminder was the faintly red skin where the tear had been. "Do be more careful next time." He rolled her shoulder gently, testing the tendons and muscles and declared her fit to continue, before standing and walking away.

The group made the rest of the journey in a heavy silence. Cassandra, ever the vigilant warrior, led the group, her stance even more rigid than before the fight.

It took roughly an hour to reach the Crossroads. They found Mother Giselle tending to the wounded in the make-shift infirmary.

"Mother Giselle?" Cassandra approached the dark-skinned woman wearing chantry robes and a rather tall hat.

The woman looked up at Cassandra, lips pursing. "Surely you are not the Herald of Andraste, Seeker. If so, then we have all been greatly misinformed."

Cassandra scoffed. "I am not the Herald."

"Then you are not the one that I agreed to speak to," Mother Giselle replied, turning back to her patient.

Cassandra turned on her heel, her gaze burning through Rebekah as she gestured her forward.

"A-apologies," Rebekah choked out as Varric nudged her forward.

Mother Giselle looked up again, and Rebekah could see that she was smiling. "You are the Herald of Andraste then?"

"I-I am, though I don't prefer do go by that name," Rebekah responded, wringing her hands.

"Do you not believe?" Mother Giselle asked, and Rebekah was reminded of the similar conversation she'd had with Leliana.

"I don't know what I believe," Rebekah replied truthfully.

Mother Giselle nodded, turning to face Rebekah fully. "But, I did not ask you here simply to discuss the events that brought you here."

"Why am I here?" Rebekah asked, truly puzzled. Leliana had not explained why she believed that Mother Giselle would be the first step in recruiting allies, just that she could be.

"I know of the Chantry's denouncement and I am familiar with those behind it," Mother Giselle explained, motioning for Rebekah to follow her as she walked towards the edge of the plateau that overlooked the village. "I won't lie to you, some of them are grandstanding, hoping to increase their chances of becoming the new Divine. Some are simply terrified. So many good people senselessly taken from us."

"It is difficult to truly comprehend how many were lost," Rebekah agreed, her memories drifting to the faces of the mages from Kinloch Hold who had traveled to the conclave with her. "I never even had time to mourn them," she thought to herself as a brief silence settled between them.

"Fear makes us desperate, but hopefully not beyond reason," Mother Giselle continued. "Go to them, convince the remaining clerics that you are no demon to be feared. They have heard only frightful tales of you. Give them something else to believe."

Rebekah took a step back in surprise. She had been hoping for something simple, that Mother Giselle would be able to act as a liaison between the Inquisition and their potential allies. She had not been expecting her to suggest that they address the Chantry's rumors of her. "They want my head, Mother Giselle. I doubt that they will be assuaged simply by me appealing to them."

"If I thought you incapable, I wouldn't suggest it," Mother Giselle replied, her expression limned with hope.

"You just met me, how is it that you already have a measure of what I'm capable of?" Rebekah countered, the words slipping from her mouth before she could think them through. She could see Mother Giselle's attitude towards her changing and she knew that she needed to salvage this conversation. "Will they even listen?"

"Let me put it this way. You needn't convince them. You just need some of them to...doubt," Mother Giselle's lips quirked up a little at the sides and for a moment Rebekah wondered how Mother Giselle had come to join the Chantry. "Their power is their unified voice. Take that from them and you'll receive the time you need."

 _"She doesn't mean for you to win the Chantry over,"_ Rebekah realized. _"She's hoping that if they fight among themselves, they'll be too busy with each other to keep you from reaching the mages and Templars."_

"Thank you," Rebekah said, fighting the urge to grin at the cleric.

"I honestly don't know if you've been touched by fate or sent to help us," Mother Giselle began.

 _"That makes two of us,"_ Rebekah thought to herself, actively trying to keep her face neutral.

"But I hope," Mother Giselle continued. "Hope is what we need now. The people will listen to your rallying call as they will listen to no other. You could build the Inquisition into a force that could deliver us. Or destroy us."

Mother Giselle paused to give Rebekah time to think on what had been said. Rebekah hoped that she could be a part of an Inquisition that saved the people, that stood as a symbol of good and justice in this chaotic world. She had her doubts, of course, but she hoped, just like Mother Giselle.

"I will go to Haven and provide Sister Leliana the names of those in the Chantry who will be amenable to a gathering. It is not much, but I will do whatever I can," Mother Giselle inclined her head to Rebekah, slipped her hands into the large sleeves of her chantry robes and strode back over to the many wounded who lay on cots behind them.

Varric walked over to her as Mother Giselle departed, Solas and Cassandra were nowhere to be found. "So what's the plan?"

"We need to go back and confer with the others, but after that? Val Royeaux."

* * *

That night, they camped with the scouts that Leliana had sent to protect the Crossroads.

Rebekah finally had the pleasure of meeting Scout Harding, one of Leliana's top operatives, and found that she liked the mix of business and sarcasm that the dwarf relied on when speaking to her and her companions. Harding gave them the location of a Master Dennet, the horse master who supplied mounts for the soldiers of Redcliff.

Harding hadn't been sure whether the fighting had reached him, or whether he was even alive, but asserted that he was the best supplier of horses in Ferelden. Rebekah had promised to check it out before returning to Haven.

Rebekah sat on one of the logs, staring blankly at the fire as the day's events swirled through her mind.

She didn't even hear Varric approach from behind. "He-,"

"Maker!" Rebekah cried out shrilly, jumping up from the log and whirling around to find Varric standing behind her.

He chuckled, "Sorry Snowflake, didn't mean to scare you." He came around to sit on the log next to hers.

"Snowflake?" Rebekah asked as she took her seat.

"Nicknames are kind of my thing," Varric explained with a toothy grin. "Seeker, Chuckles, Curly, and now Snowflake," he finished with a gesture towards her.

"But why Snowflake?"

"Well, I know you use lightning magic too, but I know ice magic is more your style. Plus, you're pale as snow. So, snowflake," he finished, his tone indicating that he was proud of himself for thinking of it.

"Uh huh," Rebekah replied, unconvinced.

They sat in silence for a few moments, the firewood crackling in front of them.

"So," Varric began. "You wanna to talk about it?"

Rebekah tensed, knowing what he meant, but still said "Talk about what?"

"You freezing in that fight," he finished simply.

Rebekah let out a huff, refusing to turn and meet his gaze knowing that she would find the same sympathetic look he always showed her. "I've never been in a fight," she said dumbly.

"I know that, but that's not all of it," Varric countered. Rebekah shook her head.

"You're too observant, you know that?" Rebekah replied, shifting uncomfortably.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but you know this won't be the only fight we're in. This is a war. I don't want to see you get hurt." At that, Rebekah did turn to look at him and saw that he was looking off, past the fire, thinking of something the past.

Rebekah had never needed to talk about it, but she found herself wanting to. She took a deep breath and faced the fire again. "I've only used my magic against another person once. It was a long time ago, back during the Blight when one of the enchanters rebelled and took over the tower."

She saw Varric turn towards her out of the corner of her eye, knew he was watching her body language, her facial features, as she spoke.

"I was stuck between the rebels and a barrier that kept people out of the antechamber where the other survivors were. One of the enchanters, my mentor, found me. She tried to get me to safety, but we were found by Uldred. She tried to fight him, but she had just been through her Harrowing and she wasn't strong enough to fight him. She told me to run, but I was frozen to the spot. He turned her into an abomination right in front of me," Rebekah could feel her eyes welling up at the memory of Carina Amell, thrashing in pain as Uldred unleashed his blood magic on her.

"When he was done, he sent her after me. I was young, not very well trained, but I used my magic against her. I don't know if I wounded her enough to kill her, I ran before I could find out, but I always felt guilty for turning on her."

"She was an abomination," Varric countered, but Rebekah shook her head, said "I know," and continued.

"After that, I struggled with my magic. Primal magic has always been utilized on the battlefield, wielded as an offensive magic, meant to kill, but it requires a level of intent. The intention behind the spell effects how damaging it can be. Against demons I don't have a problem, but against people? I vowed after the uprising never to use my magic to bring harm to another person. In that moment, staring at those Templars and mages, I couldn't bring myself to hurt them," Rebekah finally turned to him and instead of seeing sympathy, she saw understanding.

"There's nothing wrong with that, Snowflake," he began, reaching across the distance between them to put his hand on her knee.

"How do you do it?" she asked quietly, wiping at the few tears that had escaped.

"Kill people?" he asked and Rebekah nodded. "I only kill when I need to and in my experience, that's only when I'm trying to protect someone. Today, I killed to protect my comrades. We killed to protect each other and the people in that village."

Rebekah met his eyes, seeing the flash of sadness in his eyes for only a moment. "One day, and I hope it's not soon, you may have to do the same."

Rebekah had thought as much, knew that the role she had in this war would require her to one day kill another. "What do you do afterwards?"

"You live. You survive," he replied simply.

"I hope I'm strong enough to do that," Rebekah said.

"You will be," Cassandra's voice called out from the darkness. Rebekah heard the tent rustling and Cassandra emerged into the firelight.

"Now Seeker, were you eavesdropping?" Varric cooed, his serious face splitting into another grin as he slowly rounded to look at Cassandra.

"I was not," Cassandra stated indignantly and Rebekah betted that she was blushing.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you it was rude to eavesdrop?" Varric continued.

The back and forth between the two went on for a while and Rebekah smiled, becoming accustomed to the banter that usually happened among her companions. After a time, she stood up from her seat quietly and retreated to her tent.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

 _Field Report_

 _12, Kingsway, 9:41 Dragon_

 _Contact with Horsemaster Dennet has been established. He has requested that the Inquisition establish watchtowers around key points of the Hinterlands to help the common folk combat the rogue Templars and Mages, as well as the bandits. I have enclosed a map with the specified locations._

 _The Herald has taken it upon herself to assist anyone in need in the area before we depart, hence our delay in returning. She has become adamant in her desire to "show compassion and instill hope" in everyone she comes across. Perhaps this will help the Inquisition gain favor from the clerics, but at present it feels like we are wasting precious time and resources._

 _The Herald has also decided that she would prefer to offer the rogue Templars and Mages a chance to surrender and join the Inquisition forces. I have spoken with her at length as to why this would be imprudent, but she is unwilling to see reason. Those who have chosen to surrender thus far, have been given an escort back to Haven. Commander, I trust you to keep them under a watchful eye and to take action if necessary._

 _The Herald has acquiesced to martial training and has been improving slightly. She would greatly benefit from further training with the soldiers and Templars upon our return._

 _-Cassandra_

Rebekah grunted at the impact of Cassandra's dull sword against her staff. She knew that Cassandra wasn't putting all of her weight behind the downward swing, knew that Cassandra was going easy on her, but it didn't make her feel any better.

As promised, Cassandra had been sparring with her every day and night to help her become more accustomed to battling different opponents. Unaccustomed to the strain on her body, Rebekah would wake up and go to sleep in agony. After two weeks of training, she had yet to see any improvements. Cassandra would hack and slash, Rebekah would block and dodge, but every session ended with Rebekah being both physically and mentally bruised.

In addition to her martial training, Solas was attempting to strengthen her spirit magic. Solas knew that Rebekah's training had been kept strictly to primal magic, the enchanters deeming her innate healing and protective capabilities as "abysmal." They had managed to train her to erect a barrier, albeit a weak one, but had not seen any point in training her further in that area. Solas was not as easily convinced.

After a number of injuries that Rebekah sustained during skirmishes between both the rogue Tempalrs and mages in the area, Solas proclaimed that Rebekah needed to at least strengthen the protection of her barrier.

He had reasoned that she could not expect to have someone with her to provide protection, and as such would need to rely on her own abilities to ensure her survival in a fight. Cassandra had been the first to agree with him. Rebekah had not even bothered protesting.

She knew that they were both right. Every time that she bathed or undressed, she could see the faint scar near her shoulder where the arrow had struck her and she knew that she needed the training. Many other scars and bruises had followed that one and she guessed that the injuries would continue without their tutelage.

"That is enough for today," Cassandra declared, wiping the back of her hand across her brow.

Rebekah didn't have the breath to respond, so she simply nodded her head, her hands fell limply to her sides, her fingers loosened their grip on the staff.

"Come on, Snowflake! Take a seat, drink some water," Varric called to her. When she turned her head to view him, she saw that he had taken a seat under a nearby tree.

She took one deep breath and on the exhale slowly straightened, the muscles in her back and shoulders screaming. She walked over to the tree slowly, her legs and feet aching from the combination of training and traveling through the countryside.

They had not planned to stay in the Hinterlands for so long. Upon arriving at the Crossroads, Rebekah had been inundated with requests from soldiers and common folk alike. Corporal Vale, who oversaw the survival of the refugees and villagers wanted her to forage for food, collect blankets, take care of bandits, quell the fighting between the mages and Templars. Meanwhile, the common folk asked for her help in personal matters. She found that she could not refuse them.

Cassandra and Solas had complained about the delay in their return, stating that they had no time to lose, that the focus should be on finding allies and closing the Breach. Rebekah had argued that they were finding allies, just not the massive following that they had expected.

Truly, Rebekah just could not leave them to suffer and did not seem to trust anyone else to ensure that the people got what they needed.

So, a couple of days had turned into a week. One week had turned into two weeks. Now, here they were, almost a month after their departure from Haven, and they were finally returning to debrief with the council before traveling to Val Royeaux.

"How much longer, do you think?" Rebekah asked Varric as she slowly crouched next to him, wincing at the pain in her legs, before finally sitting down in the grass.

"Only a few more hours. Would've been faster if that Dennet guy had supplied us with more than one horse," Varric grumbled, motioning to the chestnut gelding that grazed lazily across from them.

"We'll get more horses once we build those watchtowers. I can't blame him for using them as leverage to ensure the safety of his people and farm," Rebekah reasoned before taking a long swig from the leather canteen that Varric offered her.

She could hear Cassandra scoff and then heard the grind of blade on stone as Cassandra sharpened her sword.

"Whatever you say, Snowflake," Varric replied as he shook his head with a smile.

-0-

They arrived back in Haven after the sun had already set. Refugees milled around, raucous noises emanated from the village tavern, and the soldier encampment was eerily silent. They returned with no fanfare, separated at the top of the first set of stairs into the village, and went their own ways.

The following morning began early for Rebekah. Incessant knocking woke her from her sleep close to dawn. She didn't bother getting properly dressed as she angrily flung her blankets off and stomped towards the door. She threw the door open, her hair still wild from sleep, to find Cullen on the other side.

She saw his expression change from mild irritation to utter shock as he realized her state of undress.

"Can I help you?" Rebekah asked, her tone louder than she had intended; the anger at being woken at such an ungodly hour roiled through her. She had not even fully registered who stood at her door until he spoke.

"I apologize, I did not mean..." Cullen trailed off, his eyes looking at anything but her.

At the sound of his voice, Rebekah's eyes went wide. She looked first at Cullen, who was blushing furiously, and then down at herself suddenly realizing just how revealing her nightgown was.

Without a second thought, she slammed the door in his face. She could feel the blush creeping up her neck and radiating across her cheeks as she gripped the fabric of her nightgown tight around her chest.

"Uh, I was sent to retrieve you. The Council is meeting up in the War Room. Your presence has been requested," Cullen continued, returning to business.

Rebekah groaned. _Who calls a Council meeting at dawn after a five-day journey?_

"Very well! I'll be up in a moment," she replied breathily. She silently berated herself for being foolish enough to open her door in nothing but her nightgown. _Maker only knows what he thinks of me now, traipsing around and opening my door in my nightclothes for all to see._

She hurriedly pulled off her nightgown and gathered her spare set of clothes from her pack. It took only moments for her to pull on the pair of black leather breeches, white tunic, and brown leather waist coat. It took another moment to retrieve both of her boots from where she had kicked them off the night before. She roughly yanked her fingers through her mussed hair as she grabbed a spare cloth off of the table, dipped it into her toothpaste, and vigorously scrubbed her teeth.

Once she was satisfied that she was presentable, Rebekah walked towards her door, took a deep breath, and threw it open.

She was shocked to find Cullen standing a little bit away, leaning against a wooden post, talking to himself.

Rebekah had almost decided to avoid him all together, but when their eyes met she knew she would not be able to avoid him.

"Commander," she greeted quietly, and she could feel her cheeks warming.

"I thought I might walk with you to the Chantry," he replied bashfully, rubbing the hairs at the base of his neck with a gloved hand.

He was dressed in his full regalia: metal breastplate peeking out from beneath a red and gold cotton wrap, the black fur of his shawl was spotted with fallen snow and blew softly in the morning wind.

 _"Maker, he must get tired after wearing all of that armor all day,"_ Rebekah thought to herself as he walked towards her. "Um...sure," she said, her tone uncertain.

Truthfully, she was surprised that he had waited outside as she had gotten ready, especially after she had rudely slammed the door in his face. Rather than apologize for her earlier behavior, Rebekah opted to simply turn on her heel and begin walking towards the Chantry without another word.

"Right," she heard Cullen mutter to himself and soon she heard the his footsteps closing in from behind.

She made a conscious effort not to look at him. She stubbornly kept her gaze forward as he came into step beside her, their feet making a soft stomping sound as they ascended the steps.

"I don't think we've ever had a chance to properly talk," Cullen began hesitantly and Rebekah fought the urge to meet his gaze.

"Talk about...?" Rebekah supplied, not quite sure what he was referring to.

He seemed at a loss, the silence between them growing longer and more awkward. "Nothing in particular, I suppose," he finally responded and she gazed down long enough to see him clenching and unclenching his fists nervously. "I guess I just wanted to apologize."

 _"You already did,"_ she wanted to reply, assuming that he was referring to the fiasco that had just occurred, but she did not have time to respond as he hurriedly continued.

"I was in a very... angry place when I called for the Circle's annulment. I don't think that I had taken time in the moment to consider the implications of taking such actions. All I wanted was to make sure the blood mages didn't escape," Cullen continued quickly.

Rebekah turned to him then, her eyes narrowed slightly not because of what he was saying, but from surprise that he would bring up Kinloch Hold at all. She could see his shoulders slumping inward slightly, his head down, unwilling to meet her gaze.

"You truly wish to discuss this now?" was the question that arose from her lips, though there were a myriad of statements and questions running through her mind. She stopped walking and turned fully towards him. He took one extra step before stopping and turning towards her.

"I needed you to know that I am not that same man. I didn't want you to think you would be forced to work with someone who you thought might...hate you," Cullen replied softly, finally looking into her eyes.

She tilted her head to consider his words, to consider how his presence in the Inquisition made her feel. Did she believe that he truly hated her? Did it make her uncomfortable to work with a man that had once cried out for her execution, albeit indirectly? Did she believe that he could work for not only the betterment of Thedas, but for the betterment of mages?

She took a deep breath and reached forward to grip his forearm. Normally, she would not have been so bold, but she wanted, needed, him to know that what she said was genuine. He looked up into her eyes, slightly surprised. "I do not blame you for how you acted after the uprising. Maybe at one time I may have, but eventually I came to understand why you and other people who experience the dark side of magic call for our deaths. There is no need for you to apologize to me."

They stood in silence for a moment, the awkwardness between them still there but lessened to a degree. "Shall we continue?" Rebekah prompted, releasing her grip on his forearm. He gave her a brief nod and a soft smile before gesturing for her to lead the way.

The remainder of their walk was made in silence as their boots crunched over the dry dirt path that led to the Chantry. At this hour, only the sounds of birds chirping and the leaves rustling in the wind filtered through the village. It felt almost peaceful, even with the angry green swirl in the clouds.

"Good morning, Herald. I trust that your travels went well," Josephine said in greeting as Rebekah and Cullen entered the war room.

"Yes, thank you," Rebekah replied, taking up her position at the table. Even after weeks on the road with Cassandra and time to get used to her role as an integral piece at the heart of the Inquisition, Rebekah was still not quite used to having such autonomy, influence, and respect.

Cassandra gave her a curt nod from her spot on the opposite side of the table and Leliana gave her a smile from where she lounged against the wall to Rebekah's left.

"Good, now that we're all here, we can begin," Cassandra said as she glanced at each person in turn.

"The Templars and mages that you had escorted back to Haven have been settling, though they were a bit... combative at first," Josephine began, glancing quickly at Cullen.

Rebekah could see Cullen tense up, his hand gripping the pommel of his sword tightly. "Combative is putting it lightly. I don't see why it was even necessary to recruit these men, they're traitors."

There was a moment of silence where everyone seemed to avoid looking at Rebekah, everyone knowing that she had been the one who had made the decision to allow rogue Templars and mages to join the Inquisition. When the brief pause did not end with Rebekah speaking up for her decision, Cassandra cleared her throat to speak instead.

"The Herald insisted that they be given a chance, to... atone," Cassandra replied, her tone dropping flatly at the word atone.

Cullen scoffed, "Atone? Those Templars deserted their post, those mages went on a rampage. We can't even begin to determine how much death and destruction they've caused. We're lucky that the villagers aren't damning us for saving those criminals."

"We've heard nothing from the common folk or the nobility to suggest that they have any opinion on the Inquisition harboring the rogue Templars and mages, but we can't expect it to stay that way for long," Leliana piped in, looking at Josephine.

"I have already prepared our response should we receive any backlash," Josephine replied with a curt nod, scribbling on a piece of parchment attached to her writing desk.

Rebekah was not used to speaking up, not used to standing up for herself and her decisions. Her heart beat erratically in her chest and she began to wring her hands behind her back as an uneasy feeling settled over her. She felt as if she were being attacked by them for offering these men and women the mercy of a second chance, even if none of them directly addressed her for it. Why should they be put to the sword without being given the option to atone for their crimes?

"They've been putting a considerable drain on our morale with their constant bickering. Just the other day I had to stop an all out slaughter right outside the Chantry doors," Cullen continued, and Rebekah saw him rolling his eyes.

Rebekah held her comments back; she felt like she might explode.

"They blame each other for the Divine's death. It appears that even without the war, they are determined to seek bloodshed in other ways," Leliana added.

"It would've been easier to just kill them and be done with it," Cullen said, emphasizing his point with a wide sweep of his arm.

Rebekah couldn't keep it in anymore.

"I'm sorry!" She stated rather loudly, she kept her hands clasped tightly behind her back, knowing that if she didn't that they would all see her shaking. "I'm sorry that I made the decision to give these people a second chance. Maybe some of them are determined to slaughter as many people as they can, but maybe some of them had no choice. If they surrendered to me, to the Inquisition, I promised I would give them an opportunity to make things right. I'm sorry if you see that as a mistake, or reckless, or if it makes your job harder, but I won't kill someone who can possibly be saved."

As she finished, the room hung in silence for a moment. Rebekah had never spoken out so emphatically before any of them. The only person who had spent a great deal of time with her was Cassandra, and even in their interactions Rebekah had always been rather quiet and reserved, a little unsure of herself. In the one brief council meeting that they'd had prior to her departure to the Hinterlands, Rebekah had remained fairly silently, only speaking when necessary.

Rebekah immediately felt a blush rise up her cheeks as well as a tight gripping in her belly as she looked between her companions.

The silence continued for a few more moments, the others seemingly unsure about whether to continue with this line of conversation or move on to more pressing matters.

"I'm sure that when the time comes for these recruits to fight for our cause, we'll be thankful that you did," Leliana supplied, meeting Rebekah's gaze. She gave her an encouraging smile, but Rebekah didn't return it, she was too busy mentally berating herself for speaking up at all.

"Where are we at with the Mothers?" Cassandra asked, breaking the awkward silence that had begun to build. Rebekah fought the urge to take a step backward, wishing terribly that she could just disappear into the shadows.

"We received your list and drafted letters to the sources that Mother Giselle provided. We are still waiting on their response," Leliana replied with a curt nod.

"I sent you that list weeks ago," Cassandra said, turning to look incredulously at Leliana.

"We sent the letters as soon as we could. I fear that the clerics are unwilling to provide support," Josephine piped up, punctuating her opinion with the jab of her pen on parchment.

"We don't need the support of the Chantry. I say we choose whether we want to approach the Mages or Templars and just do it," Cullen supplied, looking directly at Cassandra.

"They both still refuse to meet us. I've sent several missives," Josephine countered, glaring at Cullen as if she needed to remind him of this often.

"We can either wait a little longer for responses or you can go to Val Royeaux without them," Leliana said, this time looking around Cassandra to address Rebekah directly.

Rebekah, still keeping her gaze locked on the map spread out before them, didn't meet her gaze and didn't speak. She was still too embarrassed from her outburst.

"And then what? We just send the Herald in to meet with them? That's too dangerous," Cullen explained to them all. "We still get letters from Val Royeaux calling us heretics, saying that we've been harboring a dangerous criminal."

"We'll wait," Cassandra decided without further discussion. "It would be beneficial to have allies in the city when we arrive. We can discuss strategy and prepare more properly later."

-0-

The Council meeting continued for some time after that, discussing matters both important and trivial. Throughout it all, Rebekah remained completely silent. It wasn't until the end of the meeting, when Josephine and Leliana were leaving, that Cassandra requested Rebekah and Cullen to remain behind.

"I'm certain you remember the other part of the report I sent?" Cassandra asked Cullen.

He nodded, looking at Rebekah who still refused to meet his gaze. "If you want the Herald to receive martial training then I can assign one of the men to work with her until she leaves for Val Royeaux."

"I thought it might be beneficial for her if you trained her directly," Cassandra replied, shifting her weight and crossing her arms.

"Train her directly? I have many more soldiers to train. I can't be devoting more time to training the Herald than my own men," Cullen said brusquely.

"Cassandra, I can keep training with you," Rebekah added quietly, the first words she had spoken in over an hour.

"You should train with a Templar," Cassandra replied, meeting her gaze.

"Why?" Rebekah asked softly, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"Many of the enemies we've been facing are mages and Templars. It would be best if you were training with someone of a similar background," Cassandra told her. She reached out and placed a hand on Rebekah's shoulder. It was only then that Rebekah realized she had been rolling her shoulders forward, her back hunched dejectedly. Rebekah straightened slightly and Cassandra withdrew her hand.

"I'll discuss it with some of my men. Perhaps we can establish a rotation schedule?" Cullen supplied.

"Make sure they are men you trust, Commander. We don't need someone hurting the Herald," Cassandra replied, nodding her head in approval to his request.

He nodded in response. "I'll go speak with them now. Herald?" He didn't continue until Rebekah finally turned, blue eyes meeting hazel. "I'll come by with a temporary schedule sometime this afternoon. We can start tomorrow."

"Yes, alright," Rebekah replied, distractedly. _"I wish they would just call me Rebekah,"_ she thought upon realizing that throughout the entire meeting they had only referred to her by her title, the Herald.

Without another word, Cullen exited the meeting room, leaving Cassandra and Rebekah alone.

"I am sorry that we were so hard on you," Cassandra said as she turned to Rebekah after a moment of silence. Rebekah slowly lifted her head to look at Cassandra. "I understand why you wanted to recruit them, and while I did disagree with the decision originally, it could prove useful."

Rebekah felt the heaviness in her chest lessen slightly. "Thank you."

"However, you must understand that we can't save everyone. At some point it will not be an option," Cassandra finished, her gaze hard.

Rebekah swallowed thickly, cast her eyes down, and nodded.

Cassandra turned on her heel and exited the room, leaving Rebekah in the lingering silence.


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N:** I apologize for the long wait between this chapter and the last. Due to life circumstances, and a healthy dose of writer's block, I had some difficulty completing this chapter in a timely manner. Hopefully, I will be able to keep this story updated on a biweekly schedule from this point on. Thank you to my beta brightspot149 for hanging in their with me as I slowly churned this chapter out. Enjoy chapter 5!

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

The bark of the tree bit into Rebekah's palm as she leaned forward, her stomach emptying itself. The light breakfast she had eaten earlier that morning splashed onto the dead grass at the base of the tree. Even once her stomach was empty, Rebekah continued to dry heave in between wet coughs.

Her lungs were on fire from the mixture of running and inhaling the crisp air, her legs screamed at her from the amount of strain being placed on them. Cullen had warned her that he wouldn't take it easy on her, and she was finally realizing he had not been jesting.

"Are you alright?" Cullen asked tentatively behind her, perhaps regretting having pushed her so hard.

Rebekah didn't speak, she merely raised one hand and waved him off, wishing that she had a bit of privacy.

Her eyes watered as she gulped in the cold air.

After a few uninterrupted breaths, Rebekah was sure that she would not be sick again. She grabbed the small leather satchel of water from her hip and took a swig, swishing it in her mouth before spitting it onto the dirt.

"How much farther?" She rasped out, turning to look at Cullen over her shoulder, wisps of her brown hair escaping from her ponytail.

"The path back to the village is just down the hill," he replied.

Rebekah nodded and gulped down the lump in her throat.

Rebekah couldn't understand how he was standing there, unfazed by the amount of running he had just forced her to endure. He didn't even seem out-of-breath. If the council wanted her to be fit enough to be on equal footing with the likes of Cullen and Cassandra, Rebekah was sure that she would disappoint them.

She had been breathing heavily minutes into their run through the mountainous hills surrounding Haven. She had requested to stop multiple times due to a stitch in her side. About half way through, she had tripped on a tree branch jutting out of the grown and had earned angry scratches on both of her hands and a rip at the knee of her breeches.

Cullen had not stopped at any of those moments, pushing forward and calling back for her to continue on. He had not stopped until she had leaned against that tree to be sick.

 _"If this is just the first stage of my training regiment, how am I supposed to make it through the rest of the day?"_ Rebekah thought to herself, groaning inwardly at the thought of more training.

True to his word, Cullen had come to her hut the night before and had provided a basic schedule for what her training would look like. Every morning she would stretch and run, the length increasing as her stamina grew.

After the run, she would be allowed time to stretch again and rest her muscles before meeting with Solas to continue training with her magic. She would be permitted a brief break for lunch before heading back over to the soldier's encampment to train in combat. They would train her to defend herself against any type of opponent, which included warriors who utilized sword and shield, and those who used two-handed weapons, as well as rogues who favored daggers or archery. They would rotate the type of combatant until she was sufficiently prepared for any potential threat.

And this was just day one.

"Are you ready to keep going?" Cullen asked, his tone soft, where before it had been hard and authoritative. She saw him reach a hand towards her out of the corner of her eye, before rethinking the gesture and replacing his hand at his side.

Rebekah took one last deep breath and nodded, the nausea finally subsiding. "Let's go."

* * *

"How well-versed are you in the use of magic in combat?" Solas asked Rebekah, his staff resting gently between the cage of his long fingers.

"I was trained to use my primal magic offensively..." Rebekah began, but her words slowed as Solas began to shake his head.

"That is simply the type of magic you can use in combat. Have you ever been instructed on how to actually engage in combat?" Solas stared at her intently, his grey eyes taking her in as she processed the question.

"I don't believe so?" Rebekah replied, entirely baffled by Solas's question.

"Let me make a few observations clear in hopes of illuminating the type of training I speak of," Solas began, lifting his staff off of the ground in one fluid motion. "In times when I have been able to observe you in combat, I notice that you stay rooted to your position, your staff acting as a focus on where to direct your magical energy. You fire off one spell and pause to observe the field, then run through your arsenal of spells before picking the best option and selecting a target."

"Ok," Rebekah muttered as her mind drifted to the few skirmishes they had been in while on the road.

"This process takes up entirely too much time, and makes you a prime target. When your root is broken," he began, reaching out and pushing lightly on Rebekah's shoulder and knocking her off balance. "You become unable to cast, making you extremely vulnerable."

"But...how else am I supposed to use my magic?" Rebekah asked, confusion, embarrassment, and intrigue heightening her concentration on what Solas was saying.

"In your training with me, you will learn to be more flexible on the battlefield. By learning to keep moving and to adapt while casting spells, you will be less vulnerable to attack. You will also learn to see your staff as an extension of yourself and your magic, rather than a simple focus point for your spells to manifest." As he spoke, Solas whipped his staff around him, balls of energy shooting from the tip of his staff with each swirl and striking the dummy that stood yards away from them.

He didn't even seem to lock his eyes on the target. It was as if he had mentally locked on to the dummy's position and simply willed the magic to that spot.

Rebekah's eyes widened. She had seen mages move like that, but had never been adept at doing so herself. Her strength lay in the pure power of her spells.

Primal magic was a strong magic and required a strong focus to cast. She had always been taught to keep herself grounded and intent on her target. Being flexible and fluid in her movements while casting wasn't something that her instructors had ever taught her.

"Are you ready to begin?" Solas asked her, a small smile gracing his face as he observed the awe and wonder in her eyes.

"Yes," Rebekah replied as she pulled her staff from the holder across her back, her fingers itching at the opportunity to improve her spell casting.

"Excellent," Solas said with a wide grin. "Demonstrate what you know and we'll work from there."

* * *

"Adjust your stance!" Solas called out to her from the rock he was perched upon.

Rebekah fought the urge to look over at Solas for direction, her gaze leveled solely on Cullen.

At the beginning of their sparring, she had made the mistake of taking her eyes off of Cullen and was rewarded with a sharp _thwack!_ as his practice sword made contact with her leg.

She widened her stance, bent her knees generously and repositioned her hands further apart on her staff as she had been instructed during her lesson with Solas. This stance was meant to improve her flexibility and adaptability on the battlefield. It would make her less concerned with maintaining her position and more concerned with hitting her target and keeping out of reach of more nimble opponents.

Suddenly, Cullen rushed forward, his shield up and ready to deflect, his sword held fast by his side.

Rebekah summoned her mana, the magic concentrating in a mass in the air in front of her. A blue circle of energy came into existence before her eyes, her magic swirling and taking form before releasing into a dozen balls of pure energy.

The magical barrage soared through the air, coming up behind Cullen and negating his shield. Each little ball made contact one after another. The only hint that her attack had been successful was the quiet grunt that Cullen elicited, but he did not stop charging.

"Keep attacking!" Solas shouted to her.

Rebekah nodded to herself and called on the new knowledge from her earlier lesson with Solas.

"Keep moving, never stop attacking. Don't focus solely on the spells that you can cast, rely on the inherent magical properties of your staff." She rattled off to herself as she began to swing her staff around her.

Similar balls of blue energy shot forth, expending only a small amount of mana for each attack. They weren't as strong as a spell, but they still caused damage and allowed her to keep her spells for when they would truly count.

Some made contact with Cullen's shield, pinging off harmlessly and disappearing. Others shot past the protection of his shield, making contact with his armor. Cullen made no adjustments to his oncoming attack and his expression of intense concentration never changed.

 _"If I don't move, he's going to barrel right into me,"_ Rebekah thought to herself, trying to quickly decide what course of action to take.

All too soon, Cullen was upon her. Silently, he moved his shield to the side and raised his sword.

Rebekah fought the impulse to run, quickly raising her staff above her head, catching the downward swing of his sword before it made a fatal blow.

Rebekah winced as the sword made impact, the vibration traveling through her staff and up her arms.

Cullen pulled back, moving to make an upward swing to land a blow in her gut.

Rebekah pulled on her magic, a familiar blistering cold settled over her and she became coated in a blue glow. She took a step to the side and allowed her magic to wrap around her. She stepped through the fade and flew away Cullen's oncoming attack. Between one breath and the next, she found herself hidden among the nearby trees.

Cullen straightened, looking around him in an effort to find her.

 _"Attack or use the trees to escape?"_ Rebekah thought to herself as Cullen continued to search for her.

Before she could decide, Cullen turned in her direction and began rushing for her again.

Just as he entered the copse of trees, Rebekah called on the same energy and shot across the battlefield once again.

Cullen stopped mid-stride and turned to where she now stood and began stalking towards her once again.

The sparring session continued for what felt like hours. Soon the sun was setting behind the mountain that shielded Haven from the rest of Ferelden and Rebekah and Cullen stood panting across from each other in the clearing.

Rebekah gulped the frigid air down greedily, her eyes fixated on Cullen's raised templar shield. She could feel the sweat as it traced along the planes of her face, the liquid cool against her heated skin. Her mana was almost completely depleted, her entire body ached from the physical training that she'd had earlier in the day, and her arms twinged from the unfamiliar movement of swinging her staff.

Solas now stood a few yards away, watching intently.

As Cullen rose from behind the protection of his shield, Rebekah gathered what little mana she had left and summoned the cruel gasp of winter. A layer of frost began to accumulate on Cullen's armor and shield as the air around him dropped drastically in temperature. She could see that his movements were slightly slowed by the ice as it began to cover him.

Then, with a sudden crack, the ice splintered and blew away from him, his templar abilities nullifying her magic.

"I think that's enough for today," Cullen told her, sheathing his sword and lowering his shield.

Rebekah sagged with relief, her limbs protesting as she let her arms settle at her sides, her staff tilted down towards the ground. "Thank the Maker," she muttered to herself.

"You did well," Solas said as he walked over to stand beside her. He looked at her with an approving smile and she felt a small swell of pride. "But there's still much more experience to be gained."

"Andraste preserve me," Rebekah groaned at the thought of how much training was ahead of her.

Cullen chuckled and Rebekah adjusted her gaze to view him as he walked towards her.

Just like during their run in the morning, Cullen looked completely unfazed. The only signs of their sparring match were the few marks on his cloth wrapping from her lightning attacks and his mussed hair.

"It'll become easier the longer you train," he assured her with a small smile and Rebekah rolled her eyes.

"Easy for you to say, you've been training like this for most of your life," Rebekah replied and Solas tsked.

"Doubt will not help with your training. Trust that you can do it, put all of your effort into it and you will suceed," Solas reasoned with her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"I agree," Cullen said with a curt nod. "You may feel like it's a daunting task, but give it time. It's only the first day."

The words of encouragement settled over Rebekah and she bobbed her head in acquiescence. It felt good to receive praise, especially after the conversation in the War room about the recruitment of the rogue Templars and mages. She felt like she was finally moving in the right direction.

Off in the distance Rebekah could hear the ringing of a bell and Cullen lifted his head and looked across the frozen lake towards the soldier encampment.

"Just in time for the dinner bell," he said, and as if on cue Rebekah's stomach rumbled loud enough for both men to hear. They both laughed and Rebekah could feel a blush creeping over her cheeks.

The group walked through the clearing and back to the cleared dirt path that led back to the village. They walked in silence, the only sounds being the crunch of their shoes on the path and the wind whistling through the pine trees.

As they drew nearer to the encampment, the noise of the soldiers began to filter through the trees. The soft glow of torch light took shape ahead of them and soon they were breaching the tree line and stood before row upon row of erected tents. One tent was much longer than the other, and Rebekah assumed that it was the soldiers' dining tent.

The silence hung awkwardly for a moment as they prepared to separate. Cullen's body turned towards the dining tent, his muscles tensing.

"Would...would either of you like to join me for dinner?" He asked hesitantly, looking back at her and Solas.

"I appreciate the gesture, Commander, but I prefer to cook my own meals. I wouldn't want to take food meant for the soldiers. I know the supplies have been scarce," Solas replied congenially.

"Herald?" Cullen asked, and again a blush began to grace her cold cheeks.

"Um..." Rebekah trailed off, unsure whether she should accept or not. She knew that the soldiers had their own supplies for food, which had begun to run low because they had begun to share with the refugees. She hadn't needed to worry about Haven's supplies because she had mostly been on the road and they hunted for their own food. She wasn't sure how it would look if she joined the soldiers for their meal.

"Please, don't feel obligated...," Cullen trailed off, running his gloved hand over the short hairs at the nape of his neck.

"I appreciate the offer, but I wouldn't want to intrude," Rebekah replied, her fidgeting fingers hidden behind her back.

"Herald?" Solas interrupted, Rebekah turned her eyes to meet his and he inclined his head in a farewell. "I will see you tomorrow afternoon to continue your training."

"Yes, of course," Rebekah replied weakly. She brought her hands out from behind her back and clasped them tightly.

"Commander," Solas said with another incline of his head before walking towards the village gates.

"Well?" Cullen asked Rebekah.

"Um... Yes, thank you," she replied, finally reaching a decision. Immediately the knots that had formed in her stomach tightened at the thought of eating amongst so many soldiers.

"You'll be fine," Cullen told her unexpectedly, and she turned to see him glancing at her wringing hands. "We don't bite."

Rebekah couldn't find it in her to laugh at the joke, but a nervous smile began to form as they made their way to the swaying opening of the tent.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Rebekah sat rigidly on one of the few benches that ran down the length of the dining tent. She was distinctly aware of how close she was to Cullen, her right thigh pressing against his left. She was also aware of the sensation that she did not belong there, among the soldiers. Men and women talked jovially to one another, their faces lit up with smiles and laughter, some of them still wore their armor while others looked more relaxed in a loose tunic and breeches.

"Your stew is getting cold," Cullen observed, helping himself to another spoonful of his own dinner.

"Oh, right," Rebekah muttered to herself, her words lost in the raucous laughter of the men seated at the table behind her. She shook her head in an attempt to bring her awareness back to the present moment and gripped the spoonful of stew gingerly in her hand.

"Commander!" The male voice carried over the considerable length of the tent and Rebekah turned to see a man walking towards them. The man was ordinary looking, save for a distinct tattoo. Four lines ran from the man's lower lip to the bottom of his chin, and another line ran along the bridge of his nose, beginning next to his right eyebrow and hooking around the right nostril.

"Rylen," Cullen replied, greeting the man with a nod.

"We missed you out there today. Too busy for the rest of us now that you're a fancy Commander, eh?" Rylen said jokingly, taking a seat opposite Cullen.

Before Cullen could even open his mouth to respond, Rylen's eyes met Rebekah's and a grin spread across the man's face. "And you've brought a lady to dinner with ye. Trying to keep her to yourself were you?"

Cullen coughed on his mouthful of stew and Rebekah lowered her head in embarrassment, a blush gracing her cheeks.

 _"There's nothing to be embarrassed about,"_ Rebekah thought with a tsk. _"You're merely joining a colleague for dinner."_

Cullen finally stifled the coughs and Rebekah watched as his lips turned up at the corners. "Rylen, may I present the Herald of Andraste." The voice he used was very matter-of-fact, but Rebekah could see the effect that the title had on Rylen.

"Sweet Maker!" Rylen shot off of the bench and his right hand curled into a fist as he brought it to the left side of his chest. "My apologies, Herald," he drawled with a bow.

"Please there's no need...," Rebekah said hurriedly. At the mere mention of her title, she had noticed that the men and women nearest them had begun to turn and look in her direction.

Everyone at Haven had heard of the Herald of Andraste, of course, but most of them did not know what the Herald looked like. Rebekah liked that she could walk amongst the people unrecognized, it made her feel normal.

"As you know, I was asked to provide some basic training for the Herald, she decided to join us for dinner," Cullen continued.

"Of course," Rylen replied with another bow before taking his seat once again. "I didn't mean to offend..."

"It is forgotten," Rebekah told the man, wishing that she could travel back to the moments before this interaction and become the unknown mystery woman that had accompanied the Commander to dinner.

She could feel the eyes on her, but she kept her gaze leveled on her half empty bowl of stew.

An awkward silence fell over them as they quietly ate their stew, and Rebekah was struck again by that feeling of not belonging.

 _"I shouldn't have come in here,"_ she thought to herself, a weight settling over her.

That feeling of otherness crept over her as she swirled her spoon lazily in her stew, the noises around her fading into white noise as she became lost in thought.

At Kinloch Hold, she had been just like every other mage in the Circle. She always had her nose buried in a book, she made sure to keep out of trouble, and dutifully practiced her magic. She would have been a familiar face to others within the Circle, but overall was forgettable and she liked it that way.

Now, as the Herald of Andraste, she was an anomaly. For all accounts, she shouldn't even be alive, but here she was, sitting at a table full of soldiers and Templars eating stew. She glanced briefly at her hand just to make sure that it wasn't glowing. She didn't want to draw any more attention to herself.

"The training must have gone well, seeing as you're still with us, Herald," Rylen's voice cut through Rebekah's thoughts and she glanced up to see his eyes shining with mirth as he made eye contact with Cullen.

Cullen scoffed and she turned to see that he was smiling slightly.

"Our Commander isn't known for doing things half-arsed. That you're still with us either means you're stronger than you look or he's gone soft," Rylen laughed and Rebekah could see that the people immediately surrounding them had started to laugh too.

"Keep making comments like that and you'll see how soft I've gone during tomorrow's drills," Cullen growled, but Rebekah could tell by his face that he was joking.

Laughter erupted around them and even though Rebekah still felt out-of-place, the weight on her chest seemed to lift ever so slightly.

Rebekah wasn't sure that she had ever seen Cullen like this, his brown eyes dancing with restrained laughter, his lips tilted in a smirk designed to hide his smile. It made him seem younger and gave Rebekah a glimpse of the young Templar who she had once passed in the halls of Kinloch Hold as a girl.

"Then you must be one tough woman," Rylen conceded, making eye-contact with Rebekah.

Rebekah remained silent for a moment, her mind frantically trying to decide whether she should say something or not. _"Come on. Say something!"_

"Trust me, I'm sitting here by sheer willpower," Rebekah joked quietly and she could see Cullen glance at her out of the corner of her eye.

"Then tomorrow will be one hell of a training session," Rylen replied with a chuckle.

Just like that, the curious gazes left her, and the other soldiers went back to their meal. That feeling of otherness began to slide away, slowly but surely.

Rebekah finished her stew, mostly in silence, just listening to the back-and-forth between the men and women around her. Rylen continued to joke with Cullen, who fell into a familiar banter with his companion. Rylen made efforts to pull Rebekah back into the conversation with jovial questions, to which Rebekah would briefly reply before fading into the background of the conversation.

Soon, people began to filter out of the dining tent. Rylen stretched his arms wide with a yawn and slapped his hands against the table before standing. "Commander, Herald, it's been a pleasure, but my bed roll is calling my name."

Both Rebekah and Cullen nodded and without another word Rylen ambled to the tent flap and disappeared into the night.

"You should probably get some rest too. You've had a long day," Cullen said, turning to face her.

"Yes, right," Rebekah responded and moved to stand. Her legs immediately screamed in agony, the muscles taut. Rebekah gripped the table hard enough to turn her knuckles white and she could hear Cullen chuckling.

"Here, let me help," he said, as he turned on the bench and stood, both legs now free from the table. He reached out a gloved hand and Rebekah accepted it.

He guided her as she swung one leg over the bench, and then the other. When both feet reached the ground, she felt a steadying hand at the small of her back. Her back straightened at the sensation, the touch strange and unfamiliar. He must have felt her tense, because the presence of that hand immediately vanished and his other hand let go of hers.

"Would you like me to walk you back to your room?" He asked and she could see a blush creeping up his neck.

"I'll be fine," Rebekah replied. Suddenly realizing how close they were, she took a conscious step away. "Thank you for dinner. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow, right," Cullen met her eyes for a moment before lowering his gaze to their feet. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she replied before she too walked out into the darkness.

* * *

It wasn't long before their newly established training schedule was interrupted by more pressing matters.

Rebekah stood in the Council chamber in her usual spot by the door, Cullen stood across from her on the opposite side of the table, Josephine to his left and Leliana to his right. Cassandra leaned against the table to Rebekah's left, her brow furrowed.

"Still no word from the clerics?" Cassandra asked Leliana, glancing up briefly to see Leliana shaking her head.

"We've received no word from the clerics, nor the Templars or rebel mages," Leliana declared.

Rebekah sighed and could feel her shoulders slumping. She had hoped that by now someone would have decided to put aside their differences and recognize the danger that the breach posed. She couldn't quite understand why everyone was so concerned with their squabbling that they couldn't see the real threat.

"What do we do now?" Rebekah asked the group with concern.

The room grew quiet as everyone pondered the possible ideas.

It was Cassandra who spoke first. "Perhaps instead of waiting for the clerics to come to us, we go to them. We were prepared to travel to Val Royeaux once they responded, certainly we could provide a date for a formal meeting in Val Royeaux and the clerics can decide whether to come or not. We don't have to continue waiting for them to agree."

"Having the Herald address the clerics is not a terrible idea," Josephine mused, seemingly in agreement with Cassandra.

"You can't be serious," Cullen replied with a scoff, turning to look at Josephine incredulously.

"Mother Giselle wasn't wrong. At the moment, the Chantry's biggest strength is that they are united in opinion," Josephine continued, punctuating her point with a jab of her pen.

"Yes, against us," Cullen countered. He reached his hand up to rub it against his neck and started to pace.

"And ignore the danger to the Herald?" Leliana questioned, hands clasped tightly behind her back, eyes narrowed.

"Let's ask her," Josephine replied diplomatically.

As one, all of the council members turned to look at her and Rebekah instantly grew nervous.

Rebekah was silent for a moment, wondering about the possible implications of such a tactic. "Would this even solve any problems?" She finally wondered aloud, gazing into the eyes of each member of the council. "Isn't it possible that this could just be used as more fodder against us?"

"I agree," Cullen said after a beat. "It just adds credence to the idea that we should care what the Chantry says."

"I will go with her," came Cassandra's voice. "Send another missive to the clerics that Mother Giselle provided."

"But why?" Leliana asked, sounding confused, but her tone remained harsh. "This is nothing but a-"

Cassandra didn't wait for her to finish. "What choice do we have, Leliana?" Cassandra asked, her voice growing louder. "Right now we can't approach anyone for help with the Breach." Then she turned to face Cullen. "Use what influence we have to call the clerics together. Once they are ready, we will see this through."

"Very well," Cullen conceded with a sigh.

"We have another matter to discuss," Josephine piped in before they could begin to disperse. "The watchtowers that Horsemaster Dennet requested have been completed. As such, he is able to finally devote himself to the cause. I received a letter this morning asking that we send a few soldiers to assist in transporting the horses. Do we have anyone to spare?" She asked, turning to Cullen.

"Harding is still at the Crossroads?" Cullen asked Leliana, who nodded in confirmation. "Good, I believe Harding and myself will be sufficient."

"I was unaware that the Commander of our forces was expendable," Cassandra replied in a stern voice, clearly in disagreement with this plan of action.

"Captain Rylen can continue training the troops. Harding knows the area and I grew up helping my father breed and train our horses in Honneleath. I think the two of us would be the most capable pair for the job," Cullen explained.

It sounded like a good argument, but part of Rebekah felt that Cullen really just wanted to get out in the field and _do_ something. She had noticed during their training together that he had been growing more restless. Perhaps some time out in the Hinterlands would do him good.

"I don't see why he can't go, Cassandra. We won't be here anyway and he's been training the troops for over a month. They can last a week without him, surely," Rebekah reasoned. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Cullen flashing her a small, grateful smile.

"Sounds reasonable," Josephine agreed.

"Fine," Cassandra growled out. "Anything else?"

"That is all for today," Josephine said.

"Good. We'll have a long journey ahead of us. Leliana send those missives tonight, schedule the meeting for nine days from today. Herald, we'll begin our journey tomorrow. It's about a five day trek on foot to the port in Jader and a two day journey from there to the port in Val Royeaux. That will give the clerics enough time to spread word of our meeting and for us to make it on time."

* * *

The journey from Haven to Val Royeaux had felt long to Rebekah at the time, but as they walked the path towards the gates of the opulent city, it felt like the journey had taken no time at all. She hadn't been able to sleep the night before, her stomach in knots and her mind racing. What was she supposed to say to these clerics? What could she say to them to make them see that the Inquisition was not a bunch of heretics? Would they allow her to speak or would they place her in irons and lock her away?

The path was lined with exotic plants, the gates flanked by two large columns with golden lions perched at the top. Rebekah had never seen a city so beautiful and she tried to focus on the experience of entering the city instead of ruminating on what was to come.

"The city still mourns," Cassandra told them solemly as they passed between those golden lions, Solas and Varric trailing behind her. Bells tolled in the distance, lamenting the loss of the Divine.

A man and woman strolled lazily towards them and Rebekah was struck by the silver mask that hid the woman's features.

As they came closer, the woman took one look at them and gasped with shock. She reeled backwards with fear, leaning against the marble wall lining the path as they walked by. Once they were past her, she took off running down the path.

"Just a guess, Seeker, but I think they all know who we are." Varric's voice was dry and laced with boredom.

"Your skills of observation never fail to impress me, Varric," Cassandra replied sarcastically as they finally passed through the open iron gates and into the city.

Large marble statues lined this section of the pathway, each in a varying pose and Rebekah briefly wondered who the statues represented.

"My lady Herald," a voice spoke and Rebekah drew her attention away from the beauty of the city to behold one of Leliana's scouts. The woman kneeled before her.

"Please, there's no need," Rebekah told the woman, rushing forward and gripping her by the elbows and pulling her back into a standing position. Rebekah still could not understand why the people of the Inquisition held her with such reverence and was still dismayed when they felt the need to kneel before her. She found it a little unsettling, but despite her best efforts the people still continued to do it.

The scout looked at Rebekah quizzically for a moment before taking a step away from her.

"You're one of Leliana's people," Cassandra stated knowingly, and the scout nodded. "What have you found?"

"The Chantry mothers await you, but so do a great many Templars," the scout explained to them.

Cassandra seemed taken aback for a moment, unable to mask her surprise. "There are Templars here?"

"People seem to think the Templars will protect them from...from the Inquisition. They're gathering on the other side of the market. I think that's where the Templars intend to meet you," the scout continued.

"Only one thing to do then," Cassandra said, and with that the group continued their walk into the market.

"Maybe if we're lucky, they'll just decide to join us," Varric said to the group, humor creeping into his voice. "Then we won't have to worry about meeting with the mages and we can get that damn Breach closed," with a sigh he looked over and locked eyes with Rebekah. "But, with how things tend to go to shit around you, I'll just hope that we get out of this alive."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence," Rebekah replied drily, her attention again being pulled to the ever tightening knots in her stomach.

"No problem," he replied with a sardonic wink.

The low murmuring of the people crowded on the other side of the market reached them first. It wasn't long before they spotted the first few people, their faces hidden by golden and silver masks, their clothes made of the finest silks. The crowd stood in a semi-circle around a wooden platform at the base of another gateway and Rebekah could see the distinctive clothing of the Templars and Chantry mothers.

"Good people of Val Royeaux, hear me," one of the mothers called out. Two other mothers flanked her, their heads bowed slightly, their hands clasped behind their backs. Beside her was a dark-skinned Templar, his face and posture tense.

The mother began to walk towards the edge of the platform as she continued to speak to the crowd. "Together we mourn our Divine. Her naive and beautiful heart silenced by treachery."

Rebekah looked to her left to see Cassandra, whose expression seemed to darken with this interpretation of Divine Justinia. It was then that the mother spotted Rebekah and Cassandra in the crowd and when Rebekah locked eyes with her, the mother's brow furrowed.

"You wonder what will become of her murderer. Well, wonder no more. Behold," she shouted, pointing into the crowd. The people began to turn, all eyes landing on Rebekah. "The so-called Herald of Andraste, claiming to rise where our beloved fell. We say this is a false prophet. No servant beyond anything but her selfish greed!"

Rebekah stood there like a gaping fish. She knew that this would probably happen, had practiced what she would say as they made the journey here, but those words dried up in her throat under the gaze of their eyes. Suddenly, she felt a hard jab in her back and she looked to find Varric motioning with his hands for her to speak.

Rebekah looked back at the people, then up at the mother, and swallowed the lump in her throat. "I never claimed to be a Herald of anything," she began timidly and she could see Varric out of the corner of her eye giving a nod of approval and she began to speak louder. "And I am not here to argue about who's at fault for the death of the Divine. What we need to be focusing on is the real threat, the Breach."

"It's true," Cassandra voice joined hers, and Rebekah sagged with gratitude. "The Inquisition seeks only to end this madness before it is too late."

"It is already too late," the mother told them swiftly, sweeping her arm to the left side of the platform.

Rebekah could hear the clank of metal armor as the Templars came into view and began climbing the few steps onto the wooden platform.

"The Templars have returned to the Chantry. They will face this Inquisition and the people will be safe once more." The mother looked on as an older gentleman walked past her.

Everything seemed to slow down for Rebekah as she noticed one of the men sidle up behind the mother and ready his arm to strike. Her brows furrowed in confusion and as he struck the mother, Rebekah's cry of surprise mixed with those of the chantry mother.

The crowd gasped in shock.

Rebekah watched as the dark-skinned Templar moved to help the mother, his face laced with concern, and the older man gripped him by the shoulders to stop him. "Still yourself," the man told him, loud enough for the crowd to hear his words. "She is beneath us."

"What is going on?" Rebekah quietly asked herself.

"Lord Seeker, what is the meaning of this?" Cassandra inquired, her tone laced with anger and disgust.

"Her claim to authority is an insult, much like your own," the man replied, sneering down at them.

"Lord Seeker Lucius, it is imperative that we speak with you," Cassandra continued, following the man's movements as he descended from the platform.

"You will not address me," he told her with a scowl.

"Lord Seeker?" Cassandra stopped in her tracks.

"Creating a heretical movement, raising up a puppet as Andraste's prophet? You should be ashamed," he spat at her. Rebekah bristled at his tone and moved to stand beside Cassandra.

"You should all be ashamed," he continued, looking behind them at the still gathered crowd. "The Tempalrs failed no one when they left the Chantry to purge the mages. You are the ones who failed," he said, pointing directly at Cassandra. "You, who leash our righteous swords with doubt and fear. If you came to appeal to the Chantry, you are too late. The only destiny here that demands respect is mine," he sneered.

"We haven't leashed any Templars," Rebekah responded with confusion. She knew just from listening to this man that he would not help them and quite frankly she didn't want his help. However, she could benefit if the Templars beside him decided to join the Inquisition instead.

She caught the eye of the man who had moved to help the fallen mother and spoke to the Templars who accompanied the Lord Seeker. "What we need is an alliance that will seal the Breach. I've offered clemency to any Templar who agreed to fight for our cause and our Commander was once one of you. We have no quarrel with the Templars. Please, join us and help us stop this madness."

"A former Templar with a spotty reputation and fearful boys running from duty," Lucius replied with disdain, but her words did appear to reach some of the men behind him.

"Lord Seeker," the dark-skinned Templar stepped forward. "What if she really was sent by the Maker? What if-"

"You're called to a higher purpose," the man who hit the mother told him. "Do not question."

"I will make the Templar order a power that stands alone against the void," Lucius began, walking towards Rebekah and Cassandra. "We deserve recognition, independence. You have shown me nothing. And the Inquisition? Less than nothing."

Rebekah scowled at the man, her hands gripped tightly into fists.

"Templars, Val Royeaux is unworthy of our protection! We march!"

Just like that, the confrontation was over.

The Templars turned and marched out of the city.

"Charming fellow, isn't he?" Varric said to Rebekah and Cassandra as he walked past the retreating men.

"Has Lord Seeker Lucius gone mad?" Cassandra replied, her voice still betraying her shock and confusion.

"It seems that this has limited our options. If this is how the Templar order is determined to act, then perhaps it best to focus our efforts on recruiting the mages," Solas chimed in.

Rebekah was inclined to agree, but it was not her decision to make alone.

"We need to return to Haven, inform the others," Rebekah told the group already dreading the journey back.

"I'll head to the docks and secure transport back. Perhaps you could get us a few rooms for the night at an inn? We can start our journey back in the morning," Cassandra passed over a small leather pouch that jingled softly before setting off through the market, back the way they had come.

"Well, that didn't go nearly as bad as it could have," Varric said to the group and Rebekah sighed.

"I suppose you're right," she agreed softly. "Hopefully the mages will be more receptive."

"You go ahead and hope that all you like, I'll just hope that we all don't die while we wait for them to stop bickering," Varric replied, attempting to inject some humor into the statement, but in the end he just sounded tired.

"Let's go find this inn," Rebekah said and with murmurings of agreement, they made their way through the market and further into the city.


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Cassandra scowled out of the window of the carriage as it bumped along the dirt road. Rebekah knew that out of all of her companions, Cassandra disliked dealing with the nobility the most. Unfortunately for Cassandra, she was part of the nobility and therefore was the best candidate to accompany Rebekah to the chateau of Duke Bastian de Ghislain.

"You can't be serious," Cassandra had drawled upon meeting with Rebekah, Solas, and Varric at the inn. Rebekah had produced the scroll that the messenger had given her and explained to Cassandra what had transpired.

Rebekah gripped the scroll tightly in her hands which rested on her lap. "You are cordially invited to attend my salon held at the chateau of Duke Bastian de Ghislain. Yours, Vivienne de Fer," is what the scroll contained.

Rebekah knew of First Enchanter Vivienne, but only in passing. She had heard First Enchanter Irving mention the imposing woman on occasion; usually it was linked to the ever growing discussion of mage freedom in Thedas.

Rebekah knew that Vivienne did not prescribe to any section of the circle hierarchy, preferring to voice her opinions without claiming allegiance to a particular party. However, it was also known that Vivienne agreed with Chantry supervision of mages and believed mages too powerful to be left unchecked. Hence, Vivienne was a strong supporter of mage circles.

Why she had sent this request was anyone's guess, but Varric seemed to think that the enchanter had power to be gained if the Inquisition were to be successful in closing the breach.

"The only thing I've ever heard about that woman is that she likes grasping at power," Varric had said within the confines of the inn. "And right now, the person standing to gain the most power in this war is probably you, Snowflake."

Vivienne was not the only person requesting their presence.

Rebekah, Solas, and Varric had arrived at the inn without much fuss or fanfare, but upon entering her room, Rebekah had been shocked by an arrow whizzing through the open window of her and Cassandra's room.

The arrow had lodged itself in the doorframe directly behind Rebekah, a piece of parchment pinned between the wood and arrow head.

The message written on the parchment was penned in a large flowing hand with doodles bordering the parchment. "People say you're special. I want to help, and I can bring everyone," it began and Rebekah had promptly headed to Varric and Solas's room before reading the rest.

"There's a baddie in Val Royeaux. I hear he wants to hurt you. Have a search for red things in the market, the docks, and 'roud the cafe, and maybe you'll meet him first. Bring swords. Friends of Red Jenny," Rebekah had read to them.

Once Cassandra had returned from the docks, it had been determined that these leads were worth checking out. Varric and Solas had been dispatched to intercept this "Friend of Red Jenny," and Cassandra was to accompany Rebekah to the chateau.

The silent journey from Val Royeaux to the chateau seemed to drag on endlessly. Rebekah sat rigidly, her hands clenched in her lap and Cassandra alternated between scowling out the window and scowling at the wall of the carriage.

"At least we managed to secure a carriage?" Rebekah had offered at some point in the journey and Cassandra had simply huffed and crossed her arms.

Cassandra had made it quite clear at the inn that she was not interested in traveling to this salon and continued to sulk in the unanimous decision that she needed to provide protection for Rebekah.

Rebekah had also reasoned with Cassandra by postulating that she was probably the most recognizable face of the Inquisition. The people in Val Royeaux knew who she was, had known her as the Right Hand of the Divine. Most people did not know what Rebekah looked like and the only proof of who she was was the mark on her hand, which wasn't exactly something she could call on at a moment's notice.

Suddenly the carriage lurched to a halt and off in the distance Rebekah could hear the sound of people talking.

"Maker preserve me," Cassandra muttered under her breath before the carriage door opened.

A pale hand reached into the carriage, probably to offer support to any ladies looking to exit. Cassandra promptly whacked the offered hand aside and stood. She walked over to the carriage door and gracefully placed on booted foot on the small step outside of the carriage before exiting fully.

Rebekah's nerves peaked as she followed Cassandra.

The chateau towered over them, the pale stone beamed orange in the light of the fading sun. Servants in silk uniforms milled about on the stone steps of the home, providing assistance to the few remaining nobles who lingered outside.

From the raucous noise coming from inside the chateau, Rebekah could only deduce that they were most likely the last to arrive.

"Let's get this over with," Cassandra growled under her breath as she strode towards the steps of the chateau.

"I didn't realize you hated parties this much," Rebekah attempted to joke, but Cassandra did not rise to the bait.

Two servants standing on either side of the large doors of the chateau bowed deeply before moving to allow them entrance. The doors opened into a foyer draped in candlelight, the pattern on the marble flooring shown darkly.

Just up a small set of stairs guests milled around in the dying light of the sun, glasses of rich wine held delicately in their hands. Everyone was wrapped in precious silks, their faces hidden by masks. Rebekah self consciously looked down at her worn leathers and hoped that no one would comment on her state of dress.

Another man stood within the doors at the top of the stairs, a rolled parchment held in his hands. The man opened his mouth to speak as they approached, but Cassandra quickly interjected in a bored tone. "Ladies Cassandra Pentaghast and Rebekah, of the Inquisition."

"Yes, ma'am," the man replied before clearing his throat and unfurling the scroll, as if he would find their names within it. "Lady Cassandra Pentaghast and Lady Rebekah, representing the Inquisition!" He cried out and people within the chateau began to turn to observe them.

Rebekah could not hear the exact words as whispers began to circulate around them, but she immediately assumed that they were being judged by the other guests.

"What a pleasure to meet you, my lady," a man purred in an Orlesian accent, his face hidden by a gold mask - it took Rebekah a moment to realize that he was addressing her and Cassandra. "Seeing the same faces at every event becomes so tiresome."

Rebekah looked out of the corner of her eye, hoping that Cassandra would say something, and was shocked to no longer see Cassandra standing beside her.

"So, you must be a guest of Madame de Fer. Or are you here for Duke Bastien?" He continued, his companion standing quietly beside him. She wore a silver mask that covered her eyes, the remainder of her face was hidden by the high ruffles of her gown and a rather large hat.

"Are you here on business?" The woman interjected. "I have heard the most curious tales of you. I cannot imagine half of them are true."

"You've heard about me?" Rebekah asked with confusion. She had always assumed that people would not know her by face or name, that they simply knew her as the Herald of Andraste. Was it possible that people were actually becoming aware of who she was?

"Of course!" The woman exclaimed, reaching forward as if to grab Rebekah's hand that contained the mark and Rebekah instinctively stepped out of reach. "Some say that when the veil opened, Andraste herself delivered you from the Fade."

"Fanciful stories, nothing more," came Cassandra's voice and Rebekah turned to see her walking back towards them from a darkened part of the chateau.

"Oh dear, what a shame," the woman replied, her head lowering in disappointment. "The tales of the Inquisition were quite fascinating."

Rebekah saw Cassandra rolling her eyes, the irritation almost palpable. She hadn't quite guessed that attending the salon would be this much of an issue for Cassandra.

"The Inquisition?" another male voice floated to them from above. "What a load of pig shit!"

Rebekah looked up to see a man walking down the stairs to her right. He was dressed in white silk and a gold doublet. A white hat draped over the right side of his face, obscuring the golden mask that he wore. Red feathers jutted out of the left side of the mask.

Rebekah couldn't tell if this display of wealth denoted the man's importance within the social circles of Orlais or if it was all for show.

"Washed-up sisters and crazed seekers? No one can take them seriously," he continued as he reached the bottom of the steps and stood before Rebekah and Cassandra. "Everyone knows it's just an excuse for a bunch of political outcasts to grab power."

"I beg your pardon?" Rebekah wanted to say, taken aback by the man's accusation.

"Clearly you've been misinformed, sir. The Inquisition only wants to restore peace to Thedas. Our only concern is the breach, not political power," she said instead.

"Here comes the outsider, restoring peace with an army!" He retorted. Rebekah could hear a slight slur in the man's words. She couldn't tell if the slur was because of his accent or if the man was inebriated.

"We know what your "Inquisition" truly is," he continued, walking closer towards Rebekah. "If you were a woman of honor, you'd step outside and answer the charges."

Just as the man was right before Rebekah, she felt Cassandra's hand grabbing her shoulder and pushing her back. Rebekah turned to see Cassandra's other hand tightly grasping the hilt of her sword.

The man reached behind his back, moving to draw his weapon when a sudden crackling sound filled the room. Rebekah watched as a dense sheet of ice covered the man from head to toe, the sudden drop in temperature making their breath visible.

"My dear Marquis," a velvety voice cooed from above and Rebekah looked up to see a dark-skinned woman wrapped in a rather revealing silver and white dress descending the other set of stairs. "How unkind of you to use such language in my house...to my guests."

Her boots clicked on the marble staircase, her movements graceful and sensual in equal measure.

"You know such rudeness is...intolerable," she continued, reaching the bottom of the stairs to stand before them.

The man gasped, his body completely frozen, but his mouth was still functional. "Madame Vivienne, I humbly beg your pardon!"

"You should," she replied, matter-of-factly, coming to stand in between Cassandra and the marquis. "Whatever am I going to do with you, my dear?"

She suddenly turned to Rebekah and Rebekah was struck by the woman's beauty, even with half of it hidden by an ornate silver mask.

"My lady, you're the wounded party in this unfortunate affair," Vivienne said. "What would you have me do with this foolish, foolish man?"

It was at this point, that phrasing, that Rebekah realized that this scene was all for show. Indeed, all other conversation had ground to a halt around them and everyone watched the scene intensely. This was a show for Rebekah of Vivienne's power, and Rebekah was unsure whether she was impressed or not.

"No harm done," Rebekah replied meekly and Vivienne nodded slightly before turning back to the man.

"Poor marquis, issuing challenges and hurling insults like some Ferelden dog lord," Vivienne said to him and Rebekah bristled at the insult towards her homeland. Clearly Vivienne did not remember where Rebekah came from.

Vivenne snapped her fingers and the ice dissolved. The marquis suddenly lurched forward and brought his gloved hand up to cover his mouth as coughs wracked his body.

"And all dressed up in your Aunt Solange's doublet. Didn't she give you that to wear to the Grand Tourney?" Vivienne continued, and Rebekah could tell that she meant to add insult to injury. Rebekah could hear a few of the people around them giggling or coughing to hide their amusement.

"To think, all of the brave chevaliers who will be competing left for Markham this morning... And you're still here," Vivienne said, explaining for the guests around her, her head tilted. Rebekah got the sense that Vivienne was moving in such a way to showcase her feelings of superiority. Vivienne's voice dripped with disdain, and the marquis lowered his head in embarrassment. "Were you hoping to sate your damaged pride by defeating the Herald of Andraste in a duel? Or did you think her blade could put an end to the misery of your failure?"

Rebekah's heart sunk as the man fumbled for words to combat Madame Vivienne's claims. While the man had spoken to her with ill intent, she didn't need to watch this public shaming to feel justice. Rebekah stared at Madame Vivienne's back, suddenly not liking this woman and the power that she wielded like a knife.

"Run along, my dear. Do give my regards to your aunt," Vivienne finished, clearly dismissing the marquis. He left the chateau with his head bowed low, his shoulders drooping forward in defeat.

If all Orlesian parties were like this, Rebekah could see why Cassandra didn't like to attend them.

Vivienne spun gracefully on her heels, a serpentine smile gracing her lips. "I'm delighted you could attend this little gathering. I've so wanted to meet you," she said, clearly addressing Rebekah, and Cassandra released her grip on Rebekah's shoulder and stepped back. "Please, come," she beckoned as she ascended the stairs and Rebekah followed, leaving Cassandra behind.

* * *

As Rebekah and Cassandra traveled back to Val Royeaux, Rebekah had the distinct feeling that she would regret accepting Vivienne's offer to join the Inquisition.

After escaping the fiasco with the marquis, Rebekah had been propositioned by Vivienne, who believed as "the leader of the last loyal mages" it was important that she lend her assistance to the Inquisition's cause. This, of course, was after she spoke at length of the embarrassment and shame that the marquis would suffer following the incident downstairs.

The dislike that Rebekah had begun to foster following the encounter with the marquis only grew stronger as Vivienne continued to speak. Rebekah could tell that this woman viewed herself as someone of high importance and she spoke with an air of superiority. Rebekah also didn't miss the back handed compliments and condescending tone with which Vivienne spoke to her.

Despite these first impressions, Rebekah had accepted Vivienne's offer, knowing that the Inquisition could use such a powerful ally.

Upon arriving back at the inn in Val Royeaux, Rebekah and Cassandra discovered that Varric and Solas had recruited someone as well.

It turned out that Red Jenny had been waiting for them to arrive at the location disclosed by the clues and she had been eager to lend her assistance to the cause. Though, Varric had said, that the woman was disappointed that the Herald had not come. Apparently she had wanted to see if the Herald actually glowed.

"She doesn't seem like the scholarly sort, but she's pretty good with a bow," Varric had explained to them with a shrug. This explanation had not been enough to keep Cassandra from berating him for making such a decision without consulting them first.

"You can interrogate her all you want when she gets to Haven," Varric had countered. With that, they had split up and gone to their rooms to rest before their journey back to Haven in the morning.

* * *

The morning sun glinted on the stones of Val Royeaux's market as Rebekah, Solas, Varric, and Cassandra made their way towards the city gates. Rebekah couldn't help but feel that the journey had been a waste of time and valuable resources.

They had come to the city hoping to gain allies, or at least an opportunity to speak with someone who could join their cause. While they had gained two allies, their value was yet to be determined, and they didn't come with a massive following to boost the Inquisition's numbers. Even more concerning was that they hadn't been able to recruit anyone who could help Rebekah close the breach.

Rebekah sighed deeply, her shoulders drooping slightly as the disappointment settled in. She had hoped that they would have been successful. She felt as if she were going back to Haven empty handed.

"It's alright, Snowflake," Varric piped up behind her and Rebekah turned her head to meet his gaze. "We've still got time."

Rebekah simply nodded and turned back to face the city's entrance.

They walked through the gates as one, all ready to put Val Royeaux behind them.

"If I might have a moment of your time," an unfamiliar lilting voice called to them from behind, just as they had passed the first set of gates.

Cassandra was the first to turn towards the summons. "Grand Enchanter Fiona?" Cassandra asked incredulously.

Rebekah and the others turned as well, dust kicking up beneath their feet.

"Leader of the mage rebellion," Solas simply stated. "Is it not dangerous for you to be here?"

"I heard of this gathering and I wanted to see the fabled Herald of Andraste with my own eyes," Fiona replied, her grey eyes meeting with Rebekah's.

Rebekah stood up straighter under Fiona's gaze, her shoulders rounding back so that she stood tall, the previous disappointment hidden from view. "A pleasure, Grand Enchanter," Rebekah addressed Fiona, followed by a curt nod.

Rebekah knew of Fiona of course, had once revered her. All of the mages knew of Fiona, the former Grey Warden who was cured of the taint and rose to the seat of Grand Enchanter. Fiona had also once saved the mages of Kinloch Hold when the previous First Enchanter had allied himself with dark forces.

However, Fiona was also the driving force behind the dissolution of the circles and while Rebekah agreed that mages needed more freedom she ultimately believed that circles were necessary.

"If it's help with the Breach you seek, perhaps my people are the wiser option," Fiona finished, tucking her hands behind her back.

"The mages are willing to help us?" Rebekah spoke before Cassandra even had a chance to reply.

Ever since the discussion of closing the breach had been posed, Rebekah had wanted to seek assistance from the mages. As a mage, she knew that the combined power of her comrades was the most likely source that could make the mark powerful enough to close the breach.

While Cullen had offered the Templars as a secondary option, Rebekah would be lying if she said that she had even considered it as a valid option. She didn't necessarily doubt the Commander's assessment of a Templar's abilities, but she did doubt whether suppressing the power of the breach itself would be enough to close it. She'd agreed to try approaching the Templars more so to appease Cullen.

"We are willing to discuss it with the Inquisition at least," Fiona replied and Rebekah fought the urge to deflate. "Consider this an invitation to Redcliffe. Come, meet with the mages. An alliance could help us both after all. I hope to see you there. Au revoir, my lady Herald."

Without another word, Fiona spun on her heel and walked back into the center of Val Royeaux, leaving the group speechless at the sudden departure.

It wasn't long before Cassandra regained her bearings and addressed the group. "Come, let us return to Haven."

Rebekah was unsure, but she thought that she heard an edge to Cassandra's voice, almost as if something about Fiona had gotten under her skin.

"See Snowflake? Things are looking up," Varric crooned as he walked ahead of her for a change. The statement made Rebekah's lips tilt up ever so slightly into a brief smile.

* * *

The journey back to Haven was just as uneventful as the journey to Val Royeaux had been. The Waking Sea was a more turbulent affair, the waters churning violently and rocking the ship. Rebekah didn't care to admit that she had gotten a case of sea sickness along the way. She suspected that she would be several pounds lighter once they reached their destination.

They arrived back at Haven to find that nothing had changed. Soldiers were still running drills around the camp and into the mountains, the townsfolk going about their daily business, the smiths working tirelessly in the lean-to by the stables.

For once, it appeared that people did not take notice of Rebekah as she returned and she was thankful to be a nameless citizen, while it lasted.

"We should head to the Chantry, debrief the others," Cassandra spoke to Rebekah.

"Right," Rebekah replied softly, her exhaustion settling over her like a heavy blanket.

"Well, while you two do that, I'm off to have a drink. Chuckles, care to join me?" Varric inquired, his tone more upbeat and chipper than the rest of them.

"Thank you, but no. I'm going to go meditate at the lake," Solas replied.

Varric rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Sounds thrilling."

As they reached Varric's tent, the group split up. Cassandra and Rebekah went to the left and up the stairs towards the Chantry. Solas and Varric went right, one towards the tavern and the other towards his hut to stow his belongings.

The Chantry doors were already wide open when they reached them, the candles inside casting a faint glow on the stone floor.

"It's good you've returned," Josephine's voice floated to them and she appeared from behind a pillar in her customary garb. "We heard of your encounter."

"How did you already hear about that?" Rebekah asked with confusion, her eyes narrowing.

"My agents in the city sent word ahead, of course," Leliana called and Rebekah shifted her gaze to see Leliana and Cullen walking towards them from the council chamber.

They all came to a stop in the center of the Chantry, forming a circle underneath a chandelier. Candlelight flickered over their features giving them an unearthly glow.

"It's a shame the Tempalrs have abandoned their senses as well as the capital," Cullen said, crossing his arms over his breastplate.

"At least we know how to approach the mages and Templars now," Rebekah began, walking past the group and heading towards the council chamber. The others followed her. "Or at least we have an invitation to discuss things with the mages. It appears that we will get no help from the Templars at this point."

"Lord Seeker Lucius is not the man I remember," Cassandra said in agreement with Rebekah's assessment.

"True, he has taken the Order somewhere, but to do what?" Leliana mused. "My reports have been very...odd."

"We must look into it," Cullen said plainly, believing that this would be a foregone conclusion. "I'm certain that not everyone will agree with the Lord Seeker."

"Or the Herald could simply go to meet the mages in Redcliffe instead," Josephine interjected just as they reached the door.

Cullen quickly rounded on her and Josephine took a step back at the sudden movement. "You think the mage rebellion is more united? It could be ten times worse."

"I could at least find out what the mages want," Rebekah interjected, attempting to hide the fact that the felt more comfortable asking her own people for help.

While Rebekah did not hold any ill will towards the Templars, she knew that they would probably be less likely to help their cause knowing that the Herald of Andraste was a mage. She had a suspicion that the Order would be just as likely to put her down as to help her. With the mark, she could be deemed even more dangerous by the Templars if they believed that it granted her more power.

The mages on the other hand could see her as a beacon for a people divided. She could be a guiding force in establishing a place for mages, something better than the original design of the circles.

"No doubt what they've always wanted, support for their cause," Cassandra countered and Rebekah could hear the hint of annoyance in her voice.

"And what of their cause, are we not allowed to have a voice?" Rebekah asked, an edge to her voice, and for once Cassandra seemed taken aback.

Everyone was silent for a moment, the "we" hanging in the air between them. Sometimes it seemed to Rebekah that they forgot that she was a mage, an apostate. Was she supposed to throw who she was aside simply because they didn't agree with what the mages wanted most, freedom?

"We shouldn't discount Redcliffe," Josephine replied after the brief silence, breaking the tension that had been growing among them. "The mages may be worth the risk."

"They are powerful, Ambassador," Cassandra began and then she turned to meet Rebekah's gaze. "But more desperate than you realize."

"So it'll be dangerous. Haven't I been in danger ever since I fell out of the Fade? And of course they're desperate, with everyone either trying to kill them or imprison them," Rebekah countered, and she could feel the hot hand of anger gripping her heart.

"If some among the rebel mages were responsible for what happened at the Conclave..." Cassandra began, trailing off as everyone thought of the implications.

"The same could be said of the Templars," Josephine replied. Finally Rebekah broke Cassandra's gaze, her face hot with the anger roiling inside her.

Rebekah took a deep breath to center herself and felt a modicum of that anger slipping away. She was grateful to Josephine for being so open-minded and seemingly taking her side, but she was also shocked and irritated by Cassandra's small mindedness and accusations.

"True enough," Cullen said and Rebekah suddenly realized that he had been mostly silent during all of this and she was surprised that he hadn't taken Cassandra's side outright. "Right now I don't think we have enough influence to approach the Order safely."

"Then the Inquisition needs agents in more places, that's something you can help with," Cassandra replied.

"Well, we did already recruit Vivienne and that elf, what was her name? Sera?" Rebekah provided and Cassandra nodded in agreement.

"I also recruited a man when I was in the Hinterlands. Warden Blackwall," Cullen told them and Rebekah was suddenly curious to meet this man. She hadn't seen a Grey Warden since King Alistair and Queen Elena had saved her at Kinloch Hold.

"It looks like we have some work to do," Leliana said and with that the impromptu meeting ended and the council members dispersed until only Rebekah and Cullen were left.

"I trust that your journey to Dennet's home was successful," Rebekah said to him once the silence had stretched between them for too long. She had discovered that she now found it much easier to talk to him now since they had gotten better acquainted.

It wasn't easier to talk just with him. She found it easier to talk to all of her companions and didn't feel like she needed to hide her thoughts and opinions. While she had once kept everything bottled up, she now found herself speaking up and making her voice heard. Her shy nature was giving way to a slightly more confident personality and while it was something new for her among these people, she found herself happy for the change.

"Yes, though once he learned how small our stables are, he only agreed to bring enough horses for the Inquisition leaders," Cullen replied as he reached his gloved hand up to ruffle the hair at the back of his neck. "That's actually why I stayed behind. I wanted to see if you would like to meet your horse."

Rebekah's eyes widened slightly. "I get my own horse?" She asked softly, and she could feel excitement start to stir in her belly.

She had always wanted a horse as a little girl. Then again, what little girl didn't want a horse? Her family had never been able to afford one, and she had only had the opportunity to ride a pony once when she was very young. At the memory she suddenly deflated. "But, I don't know how to ride."

Cullen chuckled and Rebekah raised her gaze to see his face light up with amusement.

 _"He's quite dashing when he doesn't look so serious,"_ she thought to herself and then furrowed her brow at the thought. _"You most certainly shouldn't be thinking anything like that."_

"Well, I guess you'll have another training session in your already busy schedule. Come, she's waiting for you," he told her before skirting around her to exit the council chamber.

They made their way out of the village in silence, Rebekah having to walk a little faster to keep up with Cullen's longer strides. Rebekah could smell the stables as soon as they reached the village gates and she saw Dennet standing at the opening, yelling at someone inside.

"Good morning, Dennet," Cullen greeted as they approached him and Dennet stopped his shouting to give them a sour smile.

"Commander, Herald," he greeted with a curt nod.

"I've just come to show the Herald her horse," Cullen replied and Dennet wiped his hands on his brown breeches and stepped out of the doorway.

"Of course. Jasper, get out here!" He shouted, and a young boy with a messy mop of brown hair came darting out. "We'll give ye a moment."

"Thank you," Cullen said and without thinking, he reached out and placed his hand at the small of Rebekah's back and ushered her inside.

Rebekah blushed, heat that wasn't from anger creeping across her cheeks as they walked down the length of the stalls until they reached the last one.

Inside was a brown and white piebald mare who lifted her head to the lip of the door to greet the new arrivals.

"Maker," Rebekah breathed and she reached her hand out slowly before retracting it and looking at Cullen. "Can I touch her?"

Cullen laughed again and nodded. "Of course you can touch her, she's yours."

Rebekah raised her hand and placed it on the mare's snout. The mare exhaled and nudged her snout against Rebekah's hand. A large smile spread across Rebekah's features, her eyes shining with glee. She was practically giddy.

"Does she have a name?" Rebekah asked, turning to meet Cullen's eyes. She saw something there for a fleeting moment, something she couldn't quite identify, but it was gone too quick for her to assess.

"Funnily enough, her name is Magic," Cullen replied with a smile and Rebekah narrowed her eyes.

"Really?" She asked incredulously and he nodded.

"Once I heard her name, I knew she was meant for you," he told her, the laughter in his voice making his tone jump up and down. "That, and of course her temperament is perfect for an inexperienced rider."

She rolled her eyes and turned to gaze at Magic, the mare happily rubbing her snout against Rebekah's palm. "Thank you, Cullen," she said sweetly as her nerves settled and a calm fell over her.

"You're welcome," was his soft reply.


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Rebekah felt the air ripple around her as Leliana's arrow whizzed mere inches from her face. She heard the dull thunk of the arrow tip striking her weakened barrier and bouncing harmlessly to the ground. The barrier wavered and disappeared, taking a portion of Rebekah's mana with it.

Rebekah growled in anger towards herself, her body tensing as she pulled her magic together to form a lightning bolt. The air crackled around her and the magical energy danced along her fingers.

In her anger, she didn't notice Leliana quickly knocking another arrow and she didn't see Leliana's face contract with concern when the arrow flew.

The arrow was heading straight for her and Rebekah didn't even lift her head to see it coming.

Suddenly the sunlight illuminating her darkened as a broad shape stepped in front of her. Rebekah lifted her head just as the arrow dinged off of the metal of Lysette's shield.

The magic coursing through Rebekah ebbed and disappeared with shock, the sudden dampening of her energy leaving her feeling weak.

"You weren't even paying attention," Lysette told her, her tone quiet and stern. "If you'd been out in the field, you would've been seriously injured, if not dead."

Rebekah hung her head, disappointment settling over her like a shroud.

They'd been at it for days. Ever since Cullen and Cassandra had departed for the Storm Coast to recruit some mercenary who called himself "The Iron Bull," Rebekah had been training with Lysette and Leliana.

They would take turns, fighting Rebekah with sword and shield or arrow and daggers. Every sparring left Rebekah feeling drained and incompetent in equal measure.

"At this rate, I'll never be ready for a true fight," Rebekah thought to herself as she straightened.

"You need to be more aware of your surroundings," Leliana chimed in as she walked towards them, a small smile gracing her lips. "And you can't let your emotions get the better of you."

"I know," Rebekah murmured softly hanging her head low. It felt like she got the same critiques every day. Be more aware. Be faster. Remain calm. DO better. BE better.

With Cullen she had felt like she had improved, but when faced with new opponents she could see that she had a long way to go, and not enough time to make it that far.

"I think Snowflake needs a break," a welcome voice called from among the trees. It took only a moment for Varric to emerge, he leveled a grin towards Rebekah and winked. His levity almost brought a smile to her face, but the swirl of negative energy within her was too much.

"I don't think the Commander-" Lysette began.

"Perhaps you are right, Varric," Leliana broke in. Rebekah didn't notice the look shared between the three, her thoughts keeping her awareness trained inwards. "We will begin again tomorrow morning."

"Come on, Snowflake. Let's get you some hot food and a stiff drink," Varric said happily, clapping a hand on Rebekah's lower back.

Varric led Rebekah along the path around the frozen lake, the snow crunching under their boots.

"Why haven't I gotten any better, Varric?" Rebekah asked him, her tone betraying her sadness and frustration.

Varric scoffed at the comment and continued leading her towards The Singing Maiden. "Of course you've gotten better. A month ago you would've run away rather than fight. A month ago Leliana's arrow would've gone through you, not bounced off of your barrier."

Rebekah nodded, the words not really reaching her. Words of encouragement were not what she wanted. She wanted him to agree with her, tell her that she really hadn't improved, she wanted all of her thoughts to be validated.

Varric suddenly stopped and grabbed Rebekah's arm, turning her to face him. "Listen to me, Snowflake. You have been working your ass off since the day I met you. Just because you can't see your own improvements doesn't mean that they don't exist. You're being too hard on yourself."

Rebekah met his gaze as he spoke, watching as Varric's joking nature transformed. She could see his concern written plainly across his face. She felt a tightness forming in her chest and her eyes began to burn as tears surfaced.

"Now there's no need for that," Varric told her as he wiped away the one tear that got free. "Let's go enjoy the rest of our night, ok? We've all got a lot ahead of us."

They walked the rest of the way in silence, the sounds of the village enveloping them as they passed through the gates and made their way to The Singing Maiden.

Upon arriving, they noticed one of their new companions perched atop the back of a chair, a mug of ale in hand.

"Sera, what a surprise to see you here!" Varric shouted in greeting. Sera smirked and stuck her tongue out at the dwarf as she plopped herself ungracefully into her chair.

She gestured to the empty seats before her and Rebekah tentatively pulled one out.

Rebekah had heard of the elf from Varric, but had yet to meet her personally. The way she heard it, Sera was terrified of mages. Upon hearing this news, Rebekah decided it would be wise to keep her distance.

"So, you're her, huh? The Herald of Andraste," Sera said the title while wagging her fingers, Rebekah assumed she used the gesture to convey the hint of mysticism that surrounded her.

"Unfortunately," Rebekah replied just as Flissa came by to drop a tankard of ale in front of both her and Varric.

"You're kind of plain, really," Sera mused before taking a sip. "You sure you're her?"

"Quite sure, yes," Rebekah said flatly, now beginning to regret coming to the tavern at all.

"I mean, it's all good innit? The important thing is you glow," Sera continued, a childlike wonder creeping into her voice. Rebekah narrowed her eyes and shot Varric a look. She saw him smiling into his tankard as he took a sip.

"Glow?" Rebekah asked and Sera gestured across the table, indicating Rebekah's hand, the one that contained the mark. It wasn't currently glowing, but she could feel the power of the mark buzzing beneath the surface of her skin. "Um, yes. I glow."

"Not what I expected, not at all. Pfft, would've been hilarious if you were a man, right? Wasted," Sera continued, and Rebekah's brow furrowed as she grew more and more confused as the conversation continued.

"I think you're getting ahead of yourself, kid," Varric interjected and Rebekah could've slapped him for the huge grin he shot her. "Snowflake, this is Sera. Figured it would be nice for you to see a face from your hometown."

"Wait, you're from Denerim?" Sera fired the question at Rebekah and Rebekah nodded. She could tell that the elf hailed from the capital city, the accent was a dead giveaway."You don't sound like it. You sound all prissy and uptight like the nobles." Sera's nose wrinkled at the mention of the upper class.

"I originally lived in Denerim, yes. But most of my life I spent in the Kinloch Hold circle," Rebekah explained and she saw Sera visibly tense.

"I'd heard you were a mage," Sera began her gaze betraying her suspicion as they drifted towards Rebekah's hands, wrapped around the tankard of ale. "But you don't really seem to be like the others."

"Thanks, I guess," Rebekah replied, finally taking a sip of her ale, her face screwing up at the bitter taste. She'd never really been a fan of ale, the mages sometimes got to have wine, but alcohol was generally an uncommon luxury in the Circle.

Soon food was brought to them and Sera seemed content to talk at them rather than to them. The Denerim accent flowed around them, reminding Rebekah of days when she would sit behind the bar of the Gnawed Noble Tavern while her father worked. Slowly, the negative feelings swirling around her began to ebb away, and Rebekah was wrapped in the warm familiarity of the tavern sounds.

* * *

Rebekah stood at her normal position in the War Room, across the table from Cullen, and next to Cassandra. They had arrived only hours before, a mercenary crew not far behind, led by "The Iron Bull."

He was a hulking Qunari, covered in battle scars and missing an eye. Rebekah had been intrigued and terrified in equal measure, upon meeting him, but he had quickly quelled her fears.

"Iron Bull, I presume?" Rebekah had asked in greeting, reaching out a hand tentatively.

"Yeah, the horns give it away, huh?" He had replied jokingly, enveloping her small hand within his. Rebekah had laughed nervously and he had laughed in return, the sound beginning deep in his chest. "Pleasure to meet you, Herald."

As far as she knew, Bull and his company had immediately found The Singing Maiden and were currently "holding court" with Sera, or so Varric said.

"Now that you've returned, it is time to finally decide who we're going to turn to for help with the Breach," Josephine began, her gaze meeting each council member in turn.

Rebekah sighed heavily, surprised that they had yet to come to a consensus on who to recruit.

"I still say we should meet with the Templars," Cullen began, his stance the same as before. "They can suppress the power of the Breach long enough for the mark to close it, I'm sure of it."

"The Mages are the smarter choice," Leliana countered, and the circular argument continued just as it had before.

Minutes passed, with Rebekah standing quietly among her counterparts.

"Perhaps, if we cannot come to an agreement, we should leave the decision to the Herald," Josephine said and upon hearing her title, Rebekah's gaze shot towards Josephine.

"You would leave the decision to me alone?" Rebekah asked quietly, and she could feel everyone else in the room staring at her. She began to wring her hands, nerves suddenly gripping her tightly.

"Josephine might be right, it appears that we won't be able to come to a consensus on our own," Leliana interjected and Rebekah could see Cassandra and Cullen slowly nodding in agreement.

"But you already know who I would choose..." Rebekah trailed off, looking at Cassandra and Cullen in turn, knowing that they did not fully support meeting with the mages.

Rebekah watched as Cullen's brow furrowed, the cogs in his mind turning.

"You are the one with the mark," he began, meeting her gaze. "As much as I disagree with contacting the mages, you are the one who will need their assistance. If it is your choice to meet with them, then I will stand by your decision."

"I agree," Cassandra replied. "We don't have time to be arguing anymore, the Breach must be closed. Without you we won't be able to do that, the decision should be yours."

Rebekah took a deep breath and met each of their gazes in turn. "Alright, the mages it is then."

* * *

Three days of travel on horseback through the Hinterlands had left the party extremely irritable and Rebekah rather sore. She held Magic's reins as she completed the trek on foot, her backside aching with each step.

"Maker, please tell me we're almost there," Varric grumbled as he trudged beside her.

Due to the lack of space, Dennet had only brought a handful of horses to Haven and they were only to be used for the most important of missions. Somehow they had seen it fit to send Rebekah, Varric, Cassandra, and Solas with only three horses. One for Cassandra, one for Rebekah, and one to carry their packs.

For a majority of the journey, Varric had been saddled with Rebekah and Solas rode with Cassandra.

"We should be coming to the gates any moment now," Cassandra droned, shooting an irritated grimace towards Varric.

Rebekah could tell that the constant travelling was starting to take its toll on Cassandra. She knew that Cassandra would never admit to being exhausted or strained from the journey, but Rebekah could see it in the dark circles developing beneath her eyes and how quickly her temper flared.

Solas seemed to be the only individual unaffected by current circumstances. He spent most of the day in silence, only piping in to share his knowledge of the area.

Rebekah walked on, her gaze flicking between from the path to the trees surrounding them. After their first venture into the Hinterlands, Rebekah had learned to be cautious of her surroundings. With the rebel mages and rogue Templars plaguing the area, it was best to remain vigilant. Not only that, but bandits had taken up residence in the area as well.

Suddenly, the quiet was broken by sounds of shouting up ahead. Everyone became alert, eyes looking down the path, but their view was obstructed by a bend in the road.

"Ouch," Rebekah muttered to herself upon feeling the familiar pinpricks dancing along her palm. She looked down to see the mark sparking viciously along her skin and Rebekah felt a rush at the sight.

"A rift," she told the others, turning to see them staring at the glowing mark.

They jumped into action.

Rebekah quickly mounted Magic, assisting Varric as he struggled to get seated behind her. She spurred Magic into a trot, then a canter, before urging her into a full gallop.

Cassandra and Solas were ahead of them, racing around the bend in the road.

It wasn't long before the sickly green of the rift became visible, and the mark began to pulse within Rebekah's hand. She gritted her teeth against the strange sensation, still not accustomed to it.

As they drew nearer, they could hear the sounds of fighting. Rebekah heard the distinct groaning of the shades as they erupted out of the ground.

It wasn't long before they were upon them.

Rebekah watched as Cassandra passed the reins of her horse to Solas before launching herself out of the saddle, quickly gaining her footing and running into the fray.

Rebekah only had a moment to be impressed before she slowed Magic and brought her to a halt. Rebekah slowly dismounted before helping Varric out of the saddle.

The gate to Redcliffe Village stood before them, the entrance closed. The rift undulated within the air directly in front of the gate, guarded by a handful of soldiers.

Rebekah saw Solas dismounting out of the corner of her eye, the pack horse securely tethered to his mount.

"Herald, quickly!" He shouted to her, motioning towards the rift.

"Right," Rebekah said to herself as she pulled her staff out of the belongings she'd secured on Magic.

She felt the pull of her magic as it surfaced at her command. Quickly she looked at the skirmish before her.

Cassandra stood a few yards from her, hacking mercilessly at a terror demon.

Rebekah stared in confusion as she watched Cassandra. She could see the sweeping movement of the sword, could hear Cassandra's roar as she struck, but it all seemed to be slowed down.

Varric was a few feet to Rebekah's right, knocking a bolt into Bianca and sending it straight for a shade that was making its way towards the group of soldiers. As the bolt soared closer to the shade, it seemed to get slower and slower before striking its target.

"What-" Rebekah said to herself, watching as time slowed around the rift.

The only entity unengaged was a wisp, floating unchallenged at the edge of the circle of green light emanating from the rift.

Suddenly, as if by magic, the wisp was directly before her.

Panic surged within Rebekah for a moment and she fought the urge to retreat. She widened her stance and gripped her staff tightly in her right hand

She called deep within herself pulling her magic forward and into her center. Just outside of her body she could sense the ice magic coalescing and forming and she could feel the temperature around her dropping.

A blue light danced before her, becoming a deeper blue as the magic became focused.

Just when she felt that the magic would become unstable, Rebekah broke the magic apart, the fragments of the spell releasing and hurtling towards the wisp

The faceless wisp turned towards her just as the first fragment struck it.

She watched as it recoiled and it attempted to flee, but the barrage of energy continued to strike.

Just as the last fragment struck, the wisp wavered and vanished.

"Nice work, Snowflake!" Varric shouted encouragingly towards her and she whipped around to see Varric smile at her just as he loosed another bolt.

Rebekah continued lobbing spells at the demons, seeking out enemies that were resistant to physical attacks and vulnerable to magic.

It felt like it took forever to defeat all of the monsters that poured out of the rift, but in reality it most likely only took a few minutes.

Rebekah continued to observe instances where time around them slowed and other times when the demons erupting from the rift seemed to move outside of time. One second a demon would be across the battlefield, and the next it would be directly before them.

As the last demon withered and disappeared into the ground, Rebekah raised her marked hand and felt the deep pull of the mark as light shot from her hand to connect with the center of the rift.

When the pain of the connection became too much to bear, Rebekah yanked her hand backwards, closing her fist and willing the rift to close.

With an audible pop, the rift closed in on itself, green lights showering to the grass.

Rebekah took a moment to catch her breath and turned to look behind her to see that the horses had not bolted during the fight.

"What was that?" Rebekah asked the group. Cassandra strode towards her, wiping her blade on the cloth hanging from her belt.

"We don't know what these rifts can do," Cassandra began, her gaze sweeping to observe her surroundings as she sheathed her sword. "That one appeared to alter the time around it."

Before any of them could respond, they were interrupted by a joyous cry from one of Redcliffe's soldiers. "Maker have mercy! It's over? Open the gates!"

Rebekah could hear the cranking of the gate as the metal bars rose, the spikes leaving behind indentations in the dirt.

Rebekah and Cassandra retrieved the horses and the group made their way through the gates into Redcliffe Village.

Just beyond the doors, they encountered an Inquisition agent, who appeared as if he had been waiting for them.

"Report," Cassandra told the man casually and he bowed to her in deference.

"We've spread the word that the Inquisition was coming, but you should know that no one here was expecting us," he replied.

"Not even Grand Enchanter Fiona?" Rebekah asked incredulously, alarmed at the sudden change. Had the mages changed their minds? Did they no longer seek to make an alliance with them?

The agent shrugged his shoulders. "If she was, she hasn't told anyone."

The party shared a concerned look with one another as the agent continued. "We've arranged use of the tavern for the negotiations."

As the agent finished, a mage appeared down the path, walking briskly towards them. He was a wiry elf, clothed in robes favored by circle mages. His brown hair was swept severely back into a small ponytail, his pointed ears on display.

"Agents of the Inquisition, my apologies!" He shouted to them as he came ever closer. "Magister Alexius is in charge now, but hasn't yet arrived. He's expected shortly."

"A Magister?" Cassandra retorted, her tone laced with surprise.

The elf didn't bat an eyelash at the question. He merely turned towards Rebekah and tilted his head in a silent greeting for her alone. "You can speak with the former Grand Enchanter in the meantime."

Rebekah's brows furrowed and her eyes narrowed. "Former?"

The elf declined to respond to the question and turned to walk back towards the village.

"It is clear that something has happened here," Solas began, walking to stand between Cassandra and Rebekah. "I am surprised that word of Tevinter occupation hadn't reached us until now."

"I agree," Cassandra responded, her sword pommel gripped tightly in her hand. "Let us speak with Fiona, we need to find out more about this Magister."

Rebekah's stomach had begun to churn, her insides gripping tightly. "Something is wrong here. First the time warping within the rift and now this Tevinter Magister? It just doesn't feel right."

"I'm with Snowflake," Varric agreed behind them. "This place just feels off."

"Your instincts may prove to be correct," Solas supplied, turning to look directly at Rebekah. "We must be on our guard."

They all nodded silently in agreement before heading further into the village to meet with the "former" Grand Enchanter.

* * *

The Gull and Lantern Tavern was eerily quiet as they approached. Rebekah had grown used to the rowdy patrons of The Singing Maiden and remembered the Gnawed Noble Tavern back in Denerim as being equally loud. To come upon a tavern and not hear the patrons inside, it was a little unnerving.

The door swung open at her touch, the iron hinges creaking.

The tavern was bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, candlelight danced along the wooden tables and chairs. A small retinue of circle mages milled about the tavern, some talking quietly to one another, while others sat quietly sipping their drinks.

"Welcome, agents of the Inquisition," an accented voice greeted them. Out of the dim light near the back of the tavern stood Fiona, looking exactly as Rebekah remembered. She watched as Fiona's expression turned wary, her gaze hardening. "What has brought you to Redcliffe."

"We're here because of your invitation back in Val Royeaux," Rebekah began, the knots in her stomach tightening. "I know it was quite some time ago, but surely you hadn't forgotten."

"You must be mistaken," Fiona replied coolly. "I haven't been to Val Royeaux since before the Conclave."

Rebekah did not hide her surprise at the statement, and felt slightly hurt by Fiona's denial.

"Well that's very strange," Cassandra said to Fiona, her anger and frustration evident in her voice. "Because someone who looked exactly like you spoke to us in Val Royeaux."

Fiona seemed shocked by Cassandra's anger and took a step back as Cassandra began to advance. "Exactly like me?" She asked, confused. "I suppose it could be magic at work, but why would anyone..."

Fiona let the sentence trail off as she became lost in her own thoughts. She looked down and away from Rebekah and when she rose her eyes her face was schooled into a calm veneer.

"Whoever or whatever brought you here, the situation has changed," Fiona began and Rebekah saw a flash of disappointment cross her features. "The Free Mages have already...pledged themselves to the service of the Tevinter Imperium."

"An alliance with Tevinter?" Cassandra asked incredulously. "Do you not fear all of Thedas turning against you?"

"I understand that you are afraid, but you deserve better than slavery to Tevinter," Solas supplied, his tone betraying nothing of what he truly felt.

"As one indentured to a Magister, I no longer have the authority to negotiate with you," Fiona spoke directly to Rebekah, ignoring the comments of Rebekah's companions.

Rebekah didn't feel the frustration as it crept over her, merely felt it in its intensity when she realized that they may have come here for nothing. "What about the tear in the sky that's spewing demons out of it with every passing moment? Are you just going to pretend that it isn't there? We need your help!" Rebekah said to Fiona.

Fiona looked like Rebekah had slapped her in the face, and her tone immediately became defensive. "I am not forgetting the Breach. But we can only fight one war at a time. The Templar threat was immediate. If we live, we can worry about the torn veil."

Just then, the door banged loudly behind them and Rebekah turned to see a man in a red hooded cloak striding confidently towards them. A younger man in a yellow cloak walked behind him.

"Welcome, my friends," the man greeted them and Rebekah fought the urge to recoil at the way the greeting sounded. "I apologize for not greeting you earlier."

"Agents of the Inquisition, allow me to introduce Magister Gereon Alexius," Fiona supplied, shrinking further into the darkness as the Magister came to stand between her and the Inquisition.

"The Southern Mages are under my command," Alexius began, his tone even, but his expression beheld a smug smile aimed right at Rebekah. "And you are the survivor, yes?" Rebekah's skin crawled when Alexius gazed down at her. "The one from the Fade? Interesting."

The final word was a low growl and Rebekah felt her nostrils flaring and her lips curling with disgust.

"What is this alliance that I keep hearing about?" Rebekah asked, the question an attempt to hide how uncomfortable Magister Alexius made her feel.

"When the Conclave was destroyed, these poor souls faced the brutality of the Templars who rushed to attack them. It could only be through divine providence that I arrived when I did," Alexius replied, turning to gaze at Fiona.

Fiona's brow furrowed, her lips curling into a sneer. "It was certainly very timely," Fiona replied, suddenly picking up on how strange it was that a Tevinter Magister had come to their aid when they needed it the most.

"Fiona forged an alliance with me, indenturing herself and the other mages to Tevinter. Because they aren't born citizens of the Imperium, they must work for a period of ten years before gaining status. Currently they are an expense, but after some proper training they will join our Legion," Alexius supplied and Rebekah heard Cassandra scoff behind her.

"You're merely looking to bolster your military," Cassandra said and Rebekah watched as Fiona became dismayed at the realization.

"You told me not all of my people would be military. There are children, those not suited-" Fiona began, but Alexius cut her off before she could finish.

"And I'm sure that one day they will all be productive citizens of the Imperium. When their debts are paid," Alexius told her, his tone dropping to a more sinister level as he explained.

Rebekah took a moment to think, unsure how to proceed now that this mission had been turned on its head. They needed the assistance of the mages, but they were no longer freely able to give it. She was still uncertain about approaching the Templars and there was no guarantee that the Templars would even be able to assist them, let alone willing to lend their aid.

"Well, then it appears that you are the one that I will need to speak with," Rebekah began, looking directly into Alexius's eyes. She didn't want to negotiate with this man, she wished that she had time to deliberate with her companions on what they should do, but they'd waited too long already. They needed to recruit the mages now.

"Please, have a seat, and we can discuss matters more privately," Alexius replied, gesturing to a table in the back.

As they sat opposite each other, Alexius called out to the other gentleman who had accompanied them into the tavern. "Felix, would you send for a scribe, please?"

The younger man in yellow approached them and Alexius shook his head with a small smile. "Pardon my manners, my son Felix, friends."

Felix came to the table and bowed to Rebekah before he turned and walked away to find a scribe.

"I'm not surprised you're here," Alexius began, getting back to the business at hand. "Containing the breach is not a feat that many could even attempt. There is no telling how many mages would be needed for such an endeavor. Ambitious indeed," he said with a smirk leveled at her.

"Well, when you're fighting a massive tear in the sky, you don't exactly have the luxury of thinking small," Rebekah replied sarcastically. She heard Varric suddenly coughing loudly behind her and she suspected that he was probably trying to hide his laughter.

"There will have to be-" Alexius began, but he suddenly stopped and turned to look at his son.

Rebekah hadn't seen Felix reenter the room, but she was immediately aware of the strange way in which he was walking towards them.

He was stumbling as if drunk, his feet unsteady.

"Are you alright?" Rebekah asked him as she rose from her chair to assist.

Felix suddenly lurched forward and Rebekah braced herself to avoid falling from the dead weight.

He fell against her and she fought a look of surprise as she felt a crumpled piece of parchment found its way into her hand.

Felix quickly righted himself, still looking slightly ill and Rebekah stood back, clasping her hands together behind her back.

"Felix," Alexius said, his entire body betraying his concern for his son.

"I'm so sorry," Felix said to the room, shaking his head. "Please forgive my clumsiness, my lady."

"Are you alright?" Alexius questioned him and Felix waved him off.

"I'm fine, father," Felix protested and as Alexius turned his back, Felix shot Rebekah a knowing look and a curt nod.

"Come, I'll get your powders," Alexius replied, gesturing for Felix to follow. "Please excuse me, friends. We will have to continue this at another time. Fiona, I require your assistance back at the castle."

Fiona nodded quickly and moved to follow the father and son out of the tavern.

"I don't mean to trouble anyone," Felix told everyone, his hand still clutching his abdomen as he walked forward on shaky legs.

"I shall send word to the Inquisition. We will conclude this business at a later date," Alexius told them before exiting the tavern.

Once the retinue of mages had left the tavern, Rebekah unclasped her hands and unfurled the crumpled parchment.

"What is that?" Cassandra asked confused as they joined Rebekah near the table.

"A note. Come to the Chantry. You're in danger," Rebekah read aloud, sharing a concerned look with the group.

"It could be a trap," Solas replied, looking over her shoulder to read the note for himself.

"Probably a trap," Varric agreed.

"Still, it could prove useful to go," Cassandra countered and Rebekah was inclined to agree.

"I'm constantly in danger as it is. What else could anyone possibly do?" Rebekah asked the group and Varric groaned.

"You might regret saying that, Snowflake," he said.

As if in silent agreement, the group left the tavern and headed to the Chantry.

* * *

 **A/N:** I apologize for the gap between this chapter and the previous one and I hope that you won't have to wait as long for chapter 9. Thank you to all of the readers who have added this to their alert list and to sammxo2 for being my first reviewer. It means the world to me :)


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